


Rikki hann er bestur

by kiyarasabel



Series: Life Goes On [5]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Miscarriage mention, Mpreg, Multi, With A Little Bit Of Plot, now it's basically full on GlannÍþró smut, this was supposed to be a focus on domestic family fluff with a little adventure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 03:05:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 43,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9364727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyarasabel/pseuds/kiyarasabel
Summary: The heroes and former(?) villans of Lazy Town have retired to a life of parenthood and Elven Politics.The next generation is sharp and looking for new adventures of their own.Also, time travel.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Look at all this exposition. I minorly modified the words to pagan baby blessings and nameing ceremonies but I think that it sounds pretty nice.
> 
> This is probably going to take longer to write than previous installments because I have a lot less existing back story to build off of, and several new characters to develop.
> 
> This story will have two major plot acts and might be split or combined depending on length and transition.

Naturally, Glanni made an entrance, arriving fashionably late as usual with a flash of magic and dramatic wardrobe. Íþróttaálfurinn stood in his customary position as The Dark Court Lord's Knight Champion, his face hard and sharp, though a smile kept playing across his face when he looked at the babies. The town hall was crowded, although the event was officially family members only, most of the village waited outside to contribute their own gifts to the family of the newly inaugurated Lords of the Lazy Town Court.

Robbie and his husband Alex, formerly known as the Town's hero Sportacus, were dressed in their best finery, Elven styled robes in their signature colors, that bore rich embroidery depicting scenery that told the stories of their exploits. Alex's parents and grandparents presided over the ceremony. Stephanie and Glanni took their places at the sides to await the official beginning.

Magnús cleared his throat before lifting a ritual cup, intoning:

“Mother Earth and Father Sky  
Gods of our home, gods of our hearth,  
Kith, Kin and Kindred  
today we present you with two new lives.  
They are members of our family,  
and this is their new home.  
We ask you to welcome them,  
we ask you to love them,  
we ask you to protect them,  
we ask you to bless them.”

He took a sip from the cup after uttering.  
“Welcome children, to our home. May the gods love you as much we do.” He then passed the cup and every person gathered within repeated the gesture.

“We gather today to name these children.  
To call a thing by name is to give it power,  
and so today we shall give these children a gift.  
We will welcome them into our hearts and lives  
and bless them with a name of their own.”

Then it was Alex and Robbie's turn to speak, reaching to hold each other's hands as they addressed the crowd.

“To be a parent is to love and nurture,  
to lead a child to be a good person.  
It is to guide them along the right path  
and to both teach them and learn from them.  
It is to rein them in, and to give them wings.  
It is to smile at their joy, and weep at their pain.  
It is to walk beside them, and then one day allow them to walk alone.  
To be a parent is a great gift we have given ourselves.  
and the greatest responsibility we shall ever have.”

Both were crying but there were few dry eyes by this point, magic and emotion working it's way even to the crowd outdoors. Magnús turned to Glanni and Stephanie.

“You stand beside us, for the love of this child.  
Will you tell the gods who you are?”

“I am Lord Glanni Glæpur, of the Mayhem Town Court chosen to be Godfather for these children.”

“I am Stephanie Meanswell, chosen to be Godmother for these children.”

“Do you know what it is to be a child's Guardian?”

 

Together they responded:  
“It is to love and nurture,  
to show guidance and counsel.  
It is to help the child make choices  
should she need assistance.  
It is to be a second mother and father  
and to be there when called upon.”

Magnús nodded in approval and withdrew oil.  
“May the gods keep these children pure and divine,  
and let anything that is negative stay far beyond their world.

“May you always have good fortune,  
may you always have good health,  
may you always be joyful,  
and may you always have love in your hearts.”

Magnús then dabbed oil on each child's forehead, separately repeating.

“You are known to the gods and to us as Glenn Elan Robinson.  
This is your name, and it is powerful.  
Bear your name with honor, and may the gods bless you on this and every day.

“I honor you, Glenn Elan Robinson.”

“You are known to the gods and to us as Rebecca Candor Robinson.  
This is your name, and it is powerful.  
Bear your name with honor, and may the gods bless you on this and every day.

"I honor you, Rebecca Candor Robinson.”

As a many featured whole, the congregation offered:

“Welcome, to our family and to our hearts.  
Your parents love you, and we thank them  
for giving you the gift of life.  
We ask the Gods to watch over you,  
and over your mother and father,  
and we wish your family love and light.”

Stephanie first took her turn to offer a personal blessing to the children. “I will ensure that I will help to keep you healthy, happy and active, with always a reason to sing and dance.”

Glanni smiled, nodded politely and then called up a swirl of magic. “Glenn Elan Robinson, may you face your ambitions with courage, and never falter in the face of danger.”

“And dear little Rikki, Rebecca Candor Robinson, may you always be true to yourself and show courage to the world in determining your own path.”

His magic faded out with a glimmer that transfixed the children's attention.

To conclude Magnús repeated his prayers to the gods and closed with new blessings.

“Mother Earth and Father Sky  
Gods of our home, gods of our hearth,  
Kith, Kin and Kind  
today we present you with two new lives.  
They are members of our family,  
and this is their new home.  
Watch over them as they grow.  
Watch over them as they live.  
Watch over them with love.”

He clapped his hands and the ritual was complete, the reverent hush exploded into excited chatter; children darted outside to play; people rushed to make their personal greetings, blessings and congratulations. Finally things wound down as the gifts were gathered and sorted for the new family to discover.

Íþróttaálfurinn was surprised by the fondness he was shown by the family, the supportive hand clasping his shoulder from a man who was not really his father, an excited hug and gleeful cry of, “Brother!” From Alex, and a dry handshake from Robbie, who wore an expression he couldn't read.

“Anyway,” Glanni began, carefully drawing attention to himself. “I didn't want to steal anyone's thunder, but I'm happy to inform you that I am, in fact, expecting a child myself now.” Íþróttaálfurinn flinched at the sudden surge of the crowd nearly tackling the Lord, glad that Glanni insisted he leave his sword behind because his first instinct had been to reach for it. He knew that Glanni wasn't in danger from the enthusiastic crowd, in fact, he was reveling in it. As he watched, Glanni spared a look just for him and his insides felt like they were melting.

“It's weird that you're the dour one.” Robbie remarked.

“Why do you say that?”

“Look, I know you went all edgelord destroy all humans, but those are your people there, that's how you were brought up wasn't it?”

Íþróttaálfurinn winced. “Not exactly... My childhood, yes, was very similar... But things... Took a bad turn later...”

“I've heard the claim that Glanni ruined you.”

“I chose to make my own mistakes. I could have, should have, resisted his temptations... The spiral we fell into... I can't blame him for that, I was no innocent myself. I was like your Alex once... But never quite the same. He's better than I ever was or could be.”

“I think we all feel that way about him.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For giving me a chance.”

“Just don't fuck it up.” Robbie replied wryly, a hint of a threat to his demeanor. The mage had grown powerful since Íþróttaálfurinn had faced on the battlefield. Even if Glanni had not bound him by an oath of fealty, Íþróttaálfurinn was no longer the greatest power in the world. “Anyway it looks like the congratulations train is coming your way now so I'm off to to abuse the parenthood excuse to make my escape.”

“Interesting choice in Godparents.” Stingy noted.

“Well, Stephanie was a logical choice, our children are close enough in age that she will be an extra parent to them as it is.”

“Glanni though... An Unseelie Lord?” Stingy knew only the rumors of the man. He'd never found Robbie incredibly intimidating, but Glanni left a chill in the air wherever he went.

“Robbie and I discussed it carefully as we went over the options, I was surprised that he suggested it but I can't fault his logic. As much as we hope that things remain peaceful, we learned the hard way what it means to be unprepared for war. If something were to happen to us there is no one I trust more to do whatever it takes to keep our children safe. The fact that they're about to have their own child.” Alex shuddered. “I hate to think what would happen to the poor fool who would threaten that child. Íþróttaálfurinn can and would tear a man apart like a wood chipper.”

~

Alex had unexpectedly gotten pregnant again shortly after the birth of his first son, but Glanni was rather excited that someone else, now more experienced, would be going through the process with him. Robbie did his best to make Íþróttaálfurinn feel included and useful. 

The business of the Dark Court had weighed on the Knight heavily, his days were mostly long boring series of aired grievances and personal drama, his Lord delighted in the intrigue but it was tedious to him. Rarely was he offered the chance of the right of combat demanded of his status as the Court’s champion. Even his sparring with Isan had been less frequent, the mer-elf’s business taking him to other parts of the globe for diplomatic as well as personal reasons.

Íþróttaálfurinn didn't think that fatherhood had changed him aside from giving him additional sources of anxiety. He became extremely grateful for the involvement of his new family, gradually accepting the title of familial ties. A total of six children were rotated through the caretakers, occasionally plus or minus a few with other children of the same age range.

Stephanie and Trixie's daughters were the oldest, then Glenn, Rikki, his son Matthias and Alex's youngest, Njáll.

The middle pair were the first to begin displaying their magical knacks. At first it was Glenn making increasingly more implausible escapes from baby containment areas, and then with Rikki befriending and incidentally summoning forest creatures, not all of which were mundane. Matthias nearly caused a number of heart attacks as his gift was literally disappearing. It was a great relief that Njáll seemed interested mainly in growing plants.

Trixie and Stephanie's daughters were most intrigued by Íþróttaálfurinn’s war magic, Isan's kinship with magical beasts drew him to Rikki, Glanni taught tricks to the older boys and Njáll tended to stay close to his fathers, though he learned Stephanie's healing magic intuitively. All of the children were briefed on the basics of each sort of magic as appropriate to their ages, in addition to physical and academic knowledge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will just be filling in a bit more of the characters and teasing for what happens next.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I've been moving. I don't feel like this chapter is quite all that up to snuff, but I lack the capacity to polish it further.

”Dad, Pabbi look, Uncle Glanni gave me maracas! He says that you gotta shake 'em like a baby!” Rikki vigorously shook the new toys while Robbie scowled.

“You do NOT shake babies!” Alex was aghast.

“Maybe you don't.” Glanni laughed.

Rikki giggled. “I said the same thing but then Uncle Glanni explained it and it's a really funny joke!”

“Glanni I really don't appreciate you teaching our daughter black humor.” Robbie sighed, though inwardly he felt a measure of pride in the child's ability to understand such subjects.

“She goes to public school, you'd be amazed how many swear words she already knows.”

“I don't say them!” She protested.

“Don't worry, you know Uncle Glanni isn't a narc.”

“Snitches get stitches!” She agreed enthusiastically.

Alex made a choked whimper and Robbie patted his back sympathetically. “We should have expected this when we agreed to let a crime boss and Lord of the Dark Court babysit for us. At least he doesn't let her roam the pits.”

“She likes the hell beasts though, has a helluva knack with them let me tell you, once she's old enough I'm giving her a hellhound puppy and a Nightmare foal.”

“No, you are not.” Robbie warned.

“Oh I will, and you won't have the heart to take them from her.”

“I'm interested in training her when she's older, Glanni's right about her knack.” Isan cut in.

“Where are the others?” Alex asked curiously.

“The older brats are wrestling with Íþróttaálfurinn, and the babes are taking a nap.” Glanni smirked.

The Knight appeared shortly thereafter, walking carefully with a child supported on each limb. Glenn sat on his shoulders bothering his hair, occasionally an ear, to keep his balance. A sleeping toddler was suspended in each arm, and each leg sported a mixed race girl clinging while giggling. Íþróttaálfurinn’s face was twitching with an effort to hide his own mirth, pretending that he was annoyed with the assault. Everyone struggled not to laugh so as not to wake the babies.

~

Time passed and children grew as they are wont to do, each of their personalities becoming more distinct. As the oldest, Halla and Solla tended to boss the others around. Glenn tried to exercise his own authority as the oldest boy, but was frequently challenged by both the girls and the slightly younger boys. Glenn and Mathias especially had a strong rivalry. Rikki and Njall typically stayed out of the arguments but were just as likely to join in with the wrestling.

They all loved hearing stories about the colorful adventures that their parents had experienced, but sometimes the subject got heated. For instance, the who's parents beat up who discussion.

"My dad beat your dad" Glenn defended.

"He had help and my dad stabbed yours twice!" Matthias disputed.

“Yeah, but your Pop was one of the people who beat him.” Rikki replied.

“Exactly, it took all of your parents just to take down my dad, so he's the best!” Matthias insisted.

Said parents needed to intervene before it came to blows.

Glanni took his son aside later to explain that winning was more important than just who was the strongest, and added that he was actually the most powerful with his magic. Íþróttaálfurinn was quiet on the subject, torn between pride at his son's approval and also regret about the actions which led to his defeat.

~

“Lord Sportacus!” Shouted a messenger, bolting into the council room. Robbie bit back a snicker, still not over the fact that his husband retained his superhero name for official duties.

“Yes, what is it Snorri?” Trust Alex to know the names of every errand runner in City Hall.

“We finally have a response from Avalon! They're going to be sending a diplomatic delegation to meet with us and decide if they will recognize our Court.”

“That's great news!” Alex replied with a laugh.

“Yeah, it only took a few years.” Robbie grumbled.

“Robbie, I was expecting them to take decades at best.”

“Well, your family has been leading a kind of revolution for awhile.”

“Still, it usually takes centuries for Avalon to come to any agreements.”

“Didn't take them very long to decide to execute us.”

“Yes, well, if they recognize our authority then we might finally receive an official pardon and I can visit home again!”

Robbie rolled his eyes but gave his husband a reassuring pat on the back.

 

Alex's good mood continued into the afternoon, when he took a break to join Stephanie and Trixie with their after school athletic program, the two young women having largely taken over his hero duties.

“And remember kids, when you need energy, you should reach for a sportscandy!”

“They're called fruits, dad!” Rikki jeered. 

The other kids laughed and giggled some chanting “Fruit!” aggressively.

Alex stared at his daughter, standing with her arms crossed over her chest and looking the perfect picture of a smug villain. While Trixie and Stephanie tended the unruly crowd, Alex felt tears welling up in his eyes.

“Rikki, that was rude.” He scolded, sniffling to hide his desire to laugh. Robbie was going to find the tale hysterical. She usually only called Alex Dad when she was annoyed, usually calling Robbie Dad and Alex Pabbi. He wasn't sure what she called Robbie when she was frustrated with him but she also tended to beg by calling him Daddy, and Robbie tended to be a pushover when it came to his daughter.

~

It was known thereafter only as 'The Incident’ when Milford and Bessie volunteered to watch the children for the weekend while the Avalonian Ambassadorial party was visiting. Pranks both magical and mundane coupled with all forms of mischief led to a full month’s worth of grounding. The children refused to break and tattle, insisting “Ride or die!” The Incident was also how Alex learned that Rikki ate candy which would have killed him. Robbie admitted partial blame, pointing to the fact that he had indulged in the pleasures of chocolate and ice cream during his pregnancy. The second culprit identified was Glanni who assured that he had been very careful to test her limits before introducing her to chocolate.

“Started with tic tacs and PEZ, worked her way up, she loves dark chocolate, will eat raw cocoa beans. The boys, not so much.”

They also learned that Íþróttaálfurinn didn't suffer sugar meltdowns, and naturally neither did Mathias.

Glenn and Njall were sensitive, but not as drastically affected as their father.

 

Fortunately The Incident did not have a negative impact on the Avalonian delegation, who seemed to have departed with a positive impression of the town. They had expressed open astonishment at how well integrated the community was between humans, as well as both Seelie and formerly Unseelie elves. That magic was used as a fairly every day occurrence rather than shrouded in ritual or strictly regulated also surprised them, especially in light of the lack of an advanced magical academy.

~

“Dads, are we bad guys?” Matthias asked his fathers one afternoon.

“Of course, bad guys have more fun.” Glanni laughed.

“We, aren't really... Being actively bad.” Íþróttaálfurinn explained tensely.

“I heard that being Unseelie means that we're all ugly and evil.” The boy scowled. “And that villains just exist to get beat up by heroes.”

Glanni sighed. “Matty, look at me, I'm gorgeous. Heroes and villains don't always fight. Sometimes they fall in love or get married. Your Uncle Robbie used to be a villain.”

“Robbie was never a real villain. Not like you guys.”

“Íþró was a hero when I met him.”

Íþróttaálfurinn nodded. “I was like Alex, just making sure people exercised and ate good food.”

“He made them exercise every day at the same time and would only let them eat candy once a week.”

“That doesn't sound very heroic at all.”

Glanni grinned, chuckling as Íþróttaálfurinn scowled.

“More heroic than poisoning the entire town, destroying all their food and forcing them to work in a factory.”

“I never claimed to be a good guy.”

“You fooled all of them into making you the mayor and threw children in jail.”

“That was their decision, I just made a few suggestions, implied a few things...”

“Wow, you were a really good villain weren't you.”

“Actually I was the worst, not to brag or anything.”

“But what about now? People said that being Unseelie means that we're evil.”

“There's really no such thing as real true good and evil, when Íþró was at his worst he thought he was doing the right thing. People accuse me of evil actions but I would insist that what I do in my Court is merely Justice. Everyone has to learn for themselves what is good and evil.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a summary for the next chapter but no actual writing yet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids are getting restless and Íþróttaálfurinn is an elf with #problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This went from a chapter where I had no idea what I was going to write to being a long one.

“Are you... Knife fighting?” Alex asked, staring at his teenaged daughter tangled up with Glanni's long limbs. “With real knives?!”

“She's a natural.” Glanni grunted.

“Don't worry these knives are dulled and we practice with the flat of the blades.” Rikki reassured her father.

Glanni pushed her to the ground. “Don't take your eyes off your opponent, hun.”

“But Glanni, we're just practicing.” She whined.

“Some day your life will depend on being able to focus on more than one thing at a time.” Glanni scolded.

“I really hope not.” Alex replied with concern.

“Can't coddle them forever.” Glanni warned.

Alex sighed in defeat. “Are the boys with Íþró?”

“Of course.”

The children had grown old enough now that it really wasn't necessary for them to be babysat anymore, but it was an enjoyable routine for the family to visit each other's courts regularly now. They probably had the most closely associated courts in the world, of course given the animosity most of the Courts held for one another it certainly wasn't a bad thing.

All of the children had become quite capable combatants, each settling into their own niches, focusing themselves on what came naturally to them. They still occasionally got dragged into competing with one another in their unfavored skills however and maintained competency.

~

Although Íþróttaálfurinn knew that his life was practically ideal, he knew that there was still something wrong with him. Glanni knew, could see it sometimes, hell even pushed for that core of blind rage to come out and play. It made Íþróttaálfurinn sick that he was this way, only a thin shell of magical obedience keeping him from lashing out with violence at those that he loved most. 

It was the worst when he spent time around Sportacus. He knew what he had done was wrong, an abomination, but part of him was furious every time that he had to see his mirror. A pristine soul, everything anyone could ever hope to be and more. They called each other brother and hugged, Alex had forgiven him unconditionally, but a part of Íþró still hated him even as he loved him.

He didn't know who to talk to about it, couldn't figure out why he had ended up this way. He couldn't pin the entire blame on Glanni's seduction into moral ambiguity. Their early days of cat and mouse, chasing, catching, teasing, playing, those memories still held no trace of that anger consuming the rest of him. Try as he might he could not pinpoint the exact moment when everything had changed, it was like there was a blur after some point in his history.

No matter how he tried to concentrate on it his mind slid away,head aching, eyes blurring. He needed help but didn't know how to ask for it, didn't know who to ask for it. He couldn't speak of it to anyone, not directly. He'd tried desperately to find ways around the outright but anything that came too close would lock down. His mouth would close, jaw clenched, dizziness would descend and trying to fight it would make him ill, break into a sweat and eventually he would black out, only to return to himself later with further gaps in his memory.

The people he felt most comfortable with were Robbie who never quite let go of his grudge, and Matthias. There was nothing in the world he loved more than his son,even more dear because he was likely the only child he and Glanni would ever have.

Because Glanni had forced the change on himself to carry a pregnancy, had rushed the process, he'd developed complications which nearly killed him. His uterus hadn't been properly adhered and he'd needed to spend his last trimester on bedrest, lest the entirety of the organs would have prolapsed. The initial rupture had caused enough internal bleeding that it would have killed him if a healer hadn't been in attendance. 

Matthias was born relatively safely enough but Glanni had required an immediate hysterectomy. Sometimes Glanni threatened that he would just grow a new one and be more diligent about it, but the shock of his near death experience had done more than enough to caution him.

Matthias could be a difficult child. He was smart, spoiled, stubborn and sneaky. It was inevitable really, but at least he still idolized Íþróttaálfurinn, He was determined to become the same kind of Knight Champion, a warrior without equal that only the very best or the very foolish could ever hope to challenge. Íþróttaálfurinn knew that he didn't deserve such hero worship, but couldn't refuse the satisfaction it gave him to receive. Even his festering anger couldn't quite reach through his love for the boy, even if it could become a near thing in the heights of passionate fights.

Still it was troubling sometimes, the way the boy sought danger and conflict, often goading the other children into mischief. Glenn usually tried to thwart such plans but was more often than not drawn in by his own pride and competitive nature. Halla and Solla were unpredictable, depending on with whom they were bickering at the time. Rikki was laconic, inheriting Robbie's erraticism, acting only when it was in her own interests and staying out of the path of mayhem when it wasn't. Njall was usually more interested in his studies, determined to prove his merit by his intellect alone.

Íþróttaálfurinn wondered who else could see the inherent flaw in the way their children were being raised. He suspected that Sportacus was concerned in that direction, but most of the others considered the lessons a mere preventative. Íþróttaálfurinn knew better, when you train warriors to fight, they start looking for one.

~

Robbie knew that children were supposed to be active, especially when so many of them were of sports elf descent, but he couldn't help but feel like their increasing energy and hijinks were somehow forboding. He knew that the children didn't need adult supervision anymore but he hoped that they would still seek guidance. They still loved hearing stories, painting romantic pictures of fairy tale adventures.

Like any kids they enjoyed a wide volume of media, in the modern age of smartphones they had veritably the entirety of human knowledge in their pocket at all times. It was too much for Robbie to keep up with, but he tried to follow the ideas, and get to know what it was that the children found most important. He tried not to pry into their lives or ask a lot of questions.

He had learned a great deal from his career as the Lord's advisor and so would simply listen to what the kids would tell him, take note of what the heart of the matter seemed to be and tried to break it down into actionable strategies. He would have done so at any rate simply because of the fact that he appreciated being useful, sought out and trusted, his opinion respected, not to mention his relation, or the approval his husband showered him with.

~

The kids were bored, lounging around the old tree house, some even in the branches, all getting a little too big to be comfortable. They were sports'd out for the day, they'd beaten all the newest video games, were sick of the same old memes and even the town itself was starting to feel too small.

“I just want to do something that matters, you know?” Rikki lamented.

“Yeah, our parents are always talking about all the great things they did but they're always telling us ‘no magic or fighting outside of the sparring matches’ or 'that’s too dangerous!’” Matthias scoffed.

“Yeah I don't get it either, why bother teaching us all of this cool stuff and then never letting us have the chance to use it.” Glenn agreed.

“That's like our moms going on about superheroing, I mean all they do is stop people from getting a few bumps or bruises, that's not super, it's barely heroic.” Halla sneered.

“It's just community service, really.” Solla sighed.

“Well, Pabbi always says that he was just a 'slightly above average hero’.” Njall pointed out.

“Well yeah but he has like, kinda legit super powers. No offense to your moms.” Rikki allowed.

“Eh, yeah none taken, but for that matter don't you guys kind of have superpowers too?” Halla asked.

“I mean I guess but we can't really do all that much with them.”

“I think technically we all have superpowers, normal people don't use magic, at all, and like everyone here knows basic healing magic.” Solla explained.

“Yeah but it's not like there's any crime to fight out here, much less supervillains, so what are we even supposed to be doing with our lives? There's got to be more than work and play time.”

~

Íþróttaálfurinn finally had a plan. It was risky and it was desperate, but it was all he had. He had as clear a guess as possible when things changed. He needed some way to reverse it. He couldn't go back himself, the other wouldn't let him. He needed someone who could. Someone who wouldn't ask too many questions, light on their feet and subtle. Subtlety was the hard part, although he wasn't sure about discretion. If he didn't hate that man the most Isan would have been his first choice.

Isan did have an apprentice. Although all the boys learned how to shadowstep while they were young, it was Rikki who could be the stealthiest, and it came to her without thought. She had startled even him on more than one occasion, simply walking up to greet him unaware that she was unnoticed. She couldn't step into the shadows like her brothers, couldn't outright disappear like her cousin. But she was quiet and somehow slipped under people's notice.

She was jumpier than the other kids, more thoughtful, empathetic even, but she was also lazy, aloof and mercenary. Íþróttaálfurinn considered the choice carefully, even knowing that her traits would be ideal for the situation, she could also be the hardest to convince. Not to mention that she was a favored child. Although Glanni loved his son most of all, he spoiled Rikki like she was his own daughter. She was the only daughter of Alex and the only child Robbie had birthed. Isan took pride in the complicated manifestation of her magic.

Íþróttaálfurinn knew the risks and knew that he had to make the offer quickly. Though they spent a lot of time together as a family, it was very rare for any of them to be alone. Íþróttaálfurinn felt incredibly debased by virtually stalking his niece about his house during their family visits, more so when he was visiting theirs. He almost wanted to abandon his plan as anxiety built in him.

In the end it was she who surprised him. “Uncle Íþró, what's wrong? You've been acting strange lately and it's starting to weird me out a little.”

Íþróttaálfurinn laughed. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to alarm you. It's just, I've been having a hard time, remembering...”

She patted him on the shoulder. “My dad has bad times remembering what he did as a villain too.”

“It's just. I keep trying to think back to when it happened, why it happened, how I changed... There's nothing.”

“That... Sounds really bad, repressed memories are a sign of severe trauma!” She spouted knowledgeably. “Thank you for talking to me about this, I know it must be very hard for you.”

The Knight smiled wanly. “Indeed.”

He waited a moment to get his thoughts in order, what he was about to ask, well, risk was only a part of it.

“I can remember before it happened, after I met Glanni... before I enslaved him. We were just a hero and a villain, our rivalry leading us across towns trying to foil the other. It became something of a game. At first I just wanted to make sure that he didn't hurt anybody, I didn't care as much about his stealing things. And then I realized that I liked chasing him, that he liked me to chase him, he wanted me to catch him...”

Rikki cleared her throat and elbowed his side.

“Sorry... What I mean to say is... I want to know what happened to me, I want to stop it from happening if I can, hopefully find a way to reverse it... But I can't do it myself. I can't even talk to most people about it.”

“What do you need me to do?” Rikki asked, firmly. Was she volunteering?

“I found a spell. I don't know if it will work. I would do it myself if I could but it's outside my ability. I can't save myself from whatever happened. I wish I could give you more to go on but it's all I have. I can send you back before it happened. If you can't save me, kill me, if you can.”

Rikki inhaled sharply.

“It's me or the world Rikki, it can't happen again.”

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

Íþróttaálfurinn paused, he hadn't expected her to agree so readily, eagerly even. “Okay, I'll send you back to the last thing I can remember.”

She nodded and stepped back for him to cast the spell. He shook himself for nerves, reviewed what he needed mentally and then cast, tearing open a thin rip in reality. Rikki took a deep breath and jumped through. She collided with something organic and hit something hard with a clang. She felt her head clip stone bricks and the reek of garbage burned her sinuses.

“What the hell kid, I nearly killed you! What are you doing jumping on strangers like that?”

She looked up at the lanky black clothed figure towering above her. “Uncle Glanni?” He looked young. _Right. Past._

“Kid, I ain't got any family, much less siblings, I ain't anyone's uncle.”

_Shit, what are the rules for time travel, I thought I studied this? Is paradox a threat? Technically I'm not in the same universe as my dads._

“What, you hit your head too hard there, girly?”

Rikki braced herself up against the wall and stood. Although she was almost as tall as her Pabbi, she barely reached Glanni's chest, even if he hadn't been wearing heels. “Fuck it, you won't believe me but I'm from an alternate universe in the future. My name's Rikki.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story arc #1 has begun. Also time for my self insert mary sue lazysona oc to shine


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The working title for this chapter was "Rikki learns the crimes"

“Kid, you definitely hit your head too hard.” Glanni spat.

Rikki sighed. “I know that you aren't the mage I know yet, but you have got to have enough magic to have felt the rift I jumped through.”

Glanni twitched nervously. “Magic?” He laughed weakly. “No such thing as...”

Rikki snapped her fingers and the image of a flaming rose swirled up.

“Okay, so you know some party tricks, that doesn't mean everything else you're saying isn't bullshit.”

“If you have children you would name them Matthias if a boy and Gabriella for a girl.”

“No way, I'm never having kids, they're noisy and even I'm not evil enough to subject this shitty world on a kid.”

“You're fucking Íþróttaálfurinn.”

Glanni flinched. “So what, anyone in the neighborhood knows that when we hook up.”

“I'm here because of him. He needs help.”

“Nah, that elf don't need anybody.”

“He doesn't have anybody, Glanni, not except for you and me right now, and something bad is going to happen to him and it's up to us to stop it.”

“Why should I want to help him, he's a damn hero and throws me in jail.”

Rikki just stared at him flatly, arms crossed over her chest.

“It's not like I know where to find him anyway.”

“I'm pretty sure that he's going to find you.”

“Great, and I was hoping that the heist was going to pay off.”

“Oh, so now you believe me?”

“Can't risk a job sweetie.”

“What kind of job? Maybe I can help.”

“We're robbing a place.” Glanni snorted. “You don't look like much of a hardened criminal.”

“I'm not but I'm a quick study, I got magic and you always told me you wished you had someone like me in... These days I guess.”

“I'll see what the boys think of ya, and keep the magic on the downlow, makes people nervous.” Glanni ran a hand down his face and seemed disappointed when Rikki was still there, watching him expectantly. “First off, we gotta cut your hair, rough you up a bit. Being all squeaky clean like that makes you look like a narc.”

Rikki nodded and flicked out a knife, cutting free small handfuls at a time. She stuffed the hair into a plastic bag she pulled out of a pocket. Glanni watched her uneasily, his hand double-checking that his own knife was still in place as the teen girl casually cropped her hair with its twin.

“How do I look?” She asked with a twirl, hair rough and uneven, several shades darker than the honey colored tips.

“Like a punk.” Glanni was impressed despite himself. He hadn't expected a girl to part so easily with waist length hair.

“My dads told me not to cut it short until next year.” She grinned conspiratorially.

“Dads?”

“Yeah?”

“Okay.”

~

Glanni was glad that the girl was tall and lean, she could pass as a pretty boy and deal with less hassle from the boys. That she'd added a glamour to herself didn't hurt matters either. It made him uncomfortable how freely she used her magic. He worried that it would attract attention from the Court. He wondered if she was brave or ignorant being so bold.

She got along with the boys incredibly well and hadn't even used her magic to charm them. He was almost as surprised by the ease with which she slipped into street talk, distinct from how she'd spoken to him alone. He didn't like how comfortable she was with him, it worked under his skin and he didn't want to make the mistake of letting his guard down around her.

He wasn't sure what her game was, even if he could take her at her word, that she was allegedly his relative suggested that there was more going on. He couldn't lie that he was glad to have an extra set of hands, and was impressed that she had bargained for a reasonable cut of the profits. He was pretty sure she could have bargained for more but was trying not to draw attention to herself.

And that was what worried him. He was pretty sure that she was genuine, reasonably certain that this wasn't some kind of prank, he at least had the relief of knowing that she wasn't old enough to be his kid, assuming of course that she wasn't telling the truth about the future thing. He tended to be careful about that sort of thing, not to mention that he often didn't have cause to dally with women. There generally wasn't much to bargain for if you weren't the one being used.

But she had brought up Íþróttaálfurinn. He hadn't even seen the elf in nearly a year. The fact that she took it for granted that he would do anything for him was enough reason he should have told her to bug off and go find the elf herself. That he hadn't grated at him, forcing him to think about the elf's absence from his life. It hadn't been a friendly sort of arrangement between them, just a game, a bit of cat and mouse. The sex was great and there was something to be said for the simplicity of a purely physical relationship.

Hell, the hero only ever bothered him anymore if his plots were dangerous. It almost made him wish he was the kind of terrorist who did incite mass mayhem. And damn it, now was not the time to be thinking wistfully about that damn elf. The last thing he wanted now was to attract any kind of damn attention to himself much less a damned hero.

He decided to glare at Rikki, blaming her for the wayward thoughts. As if she felt his gaze upon her she turned and winked, slyly palming cards during her game with the boys. Glanni frowned, trying to deny the aching sense that he felt a chuff of pride for her nimble fingers. He was almost starting to believe that he really had trained her.

~

She was brilliant and Glanni hated how much he admired it. She was strong, agile and stealthy in a way that bothered him. Magic alone did not explain all that she was. Sometimes, she almost reminded him of the elf and he hated her the most in those moments. She cracked the safe with nary a spark as the boys stuffed the jewelry displays into bags.

It was a good clean job, at night with no collateral damage, in and out without tripping the alarms, clear well before the police could have arrived had they missed any of the security systems. The loot was divvied quickly, Rikki electing for the simple cash while the others bickered about cost effectiveness of fences.

Glanni took first choice of the gems, as much as for what pleased him most aesthetically as what he knew would be easiest to shift. After the crew parted ways, Glanni was almost startled that the girl remained. “So am I just supposed to babysit you until the elf shows up?” He sneered.

“I earned my keep didn't I?” She challenged.

She had him there, but he couldn't just say that. “Well you better keep it up. I don't work well with others.”

She scoffed. “You work fine with others as long as you call the shots.”

“Then maybe you should shut your mouth!”

“You wouldn't respect me if I did.”

“What makes you think that have any respect for a nosy, know it all brat?”

“Well, you haven't tried to hurt me yet.”

“Give it time sweetheart.”

She shrugged. “Want to go shopping with our ill gotten gains?”

The smirk escaped his lips before he could stop it.

~

As if they were both teenaged girls, the duo returned to their hotel room a giggling mess, collapsing onto the bed with as much as their arms could carry.

“You know, it's almost too bad that you're basically my dad.” Rikki joked with a wink.

“You said I'm your uncle.”

“Technically you're more like my dad's evil twin.”

“So your dad's a hero.”

“Well, one of them is, but no, the one I meant was technically a villain he just wasn't very good at it, or just got out of practice or something. I dunno, he doesn't like to talk about it. Pabbi only tells us the silly things Dad did.”

“So, you're talking like I'm your type, but you also say I'm one of your caretakers, and if that's the case there's no way that I would let you date a guy like me.”

“Didn't say I would date 'em.” She waggled her eyebrows and Glanni laughed.

The criminal was starting to think that this sidekick perk might be worth his while. She could work the seduction over on those he couldn't and she had a decent sense of style. He'd never admit it but she had earned his respect. She was as quick with her knife as her wit, quicker even. She was clever with technology and she was indeed a quick learner. If he'd had a little sister this is who she would have been.

He felt a squeeze in his chest as he realized that he'd actually bonded with the girl, that she'd been able to insinuate herself into his company so easily he could only chalk up to the possibility that she told the truth of her origin. Certainly the way she acted so intimately familiar with him had caught him off guard. She didn't even feel like the liability he knew she was, pragmatic and capable, independent.

He'd never really worked with a partner before, but he felt like she would be a valuable asset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, Íþróttaálfurinn finally shows up.
> 
> Also Rikki this chapter like https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/18/0e/cd/180ecd3d507876d70cb8edb65c5fdb35.gif


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Behold, PLOT! 
> 
> There are multiple reasons that I have been so slow updating this.
> 
> First, I'm in the middle of moving  
> Second this story didn't get a full outline the way Dokki did, even Expectations had a summary.
> 
> Third, I don't feel like people are all that into the story at this point. I'll keep going just to fonish it but...
> 
> Oh yeah, also I'm trying to keep the porn out of this installment, but this is what's canonically happening this chapter if you want the smuts http://archiveofourown.org/works/9455507

”Well, if it isn't Glanni Glæpur.” Scoffed a familiar voice. “And I shouldn't be surprised and yet I never knew your tastes ran so young.”

“Hey, I'm 15!” Rikki protested.

“Oh, hello there cow. I'm not sure what offends me more the implication that this is my type.” He gestured to Rikki with disgust. “Or that you're too dumb to spot a family resemblance. This is my niece Rikki.”

Íþróttaálfurinn stared at the girl. “I didn't know that you had family Glæpur.” He tilted his head to the side. “Weird, she reminds me of my sister.” He shook his head as Glanni gave Rikki a suspicious glance. “Isn't Rikki the name you used as a disguise when we first met?”

Glanni rolled his eyes. “It's a family name.”

Íþróttaálfurinn took a second look at his present company. “Are you... Eating garbage?”

“It's still good.” Rikki protested from where she dug through the supermarket dumpster.

“We can't all summon everything we need from a few bags of seed overnight.” Glanni chided.

“That's more my brother's forte.” Rikki grumbled.

“I'm not... I mean... Let me help.”

“Yeah we can't carry this haul alone.”

“No, I mean, get you real food.”

“This is real food, it's just going to waste because the agricultural industry overproduces to keep stores full of inventory.”

“I just, didn't you guys like, just pull off a big time jewelry heist?”

“Even if we did we ain't admitting it, not to the likes of you.”

“I just mean, I expected to see you at a fancy restaurant not a...”

“Well, you know how it is, beggars can't be choosers no matter how expensive the taste.”

“Wait a minute, did you guys already spend it all?”

“No!” The duo insisted, sharing a sheepish glance.

“How, do you even manage...”

“Just because we don't have a whole lot of liquid assets...”

“What did you even buy with that much money?”

“Nothing that you would appreciate, cow.”

~

Despite the apparent poverty that had led to the duo dumpster diving, they were holed up in a fairly respectable hotel room. Íþróttaálfurinn could admit and recognize that the food they had scavenged was still good but he still couldn't wrap his head around the dichotomy of the desperation of scrounging for food whilst spending money on luxury items.

“Stop looking at us like that.” Glanni snapped. “Poor people can have nice things too.”

“Glanni you're a thief and a criminal, the money you spent doesn't belong to you.”

“So what? People take other people's stuff and money all the time and it's just called good business. Only reason I'm a criminal and not a CEO is where I'm from. Shit I play my schemes right and I can be the godsdamned president!”

Rikki watched quietly from the side of the room, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the focus on her latest escapades.

“Glanni, you're not exactly Robin Hood here.”

“I never said I was, fuck you're the first godsdamned fairy tale hero I ever heard of, us in the real world gotta take whatever we can get just to survive. It's all a fucking joke, people are starving to death on the street while supermarkets throw out extra food, all so that they can turn over their inventory for a better profit. So fucking what if I stole tiny Tim’s trust fund, his daddy's cronies will get him into a white collar job and he'll marry a trophy wife trying to move up an income bracket, that's all people are these days.”

“I don't believe that...”

“Of course you don't you come from some happy magical land where everything grows on trees and people don't stab each other to death on a street corner for a bottle of hooch.”

Rikki narrowed her eyes. “Stop flirting you assholes and get another godsdamned room.”

Glanni snorted. “Ain't nothing keeping you in here, princess.”

“We're not flirting!” Íþróttaálfurinn sputtered.

She gave him a long stare, and then took the fire escape out the back rather than go out the front.

“So the kid's gone, wanna fuck?”

~

Rikki kept her hood drawn up and her elbows bowed out from her pockets to look bigger. She kept her stride smooth and even, legs straight from the hip. She kept her head down but her peripherals sharp. Usually on a night like this she would go jogging, but in the city she would stand out too much. She appreciated the new environment, the different way magic pooled in dark alleys and the stone walls whispered secrets. It was like a walk through old woods, but there was so much more compressed. In general the city felt crowded, even on the near empty night streets.

She found her way to a corner store, bought some junk food and headed back out into the night. She was considering climbing up to the rooftops to get a better view of the sky, but didn’t want to draw attention to herself.

She ended up settling herself on a park bench listening to the whispering of the trees. They were different from the ones back home, these younger, chattier. She grinned, they were basically teenagers like her. She didn’t butt into their gossip, merely listening about the goings on of squirrels and sunlight. They didn’t speak much about the humans, but it caught her attention when they spoke of the Court.

This was a Winter Court, and their Grove was within the park. Rikki considered the options. She was the daughter of Lords, technically a Princess even if her home court insisted on democracy. She didn’t know this court, and despite her close association with her Uncle Glanni’s court, she didn’t actually know all that much about Unseelie business. In retrospect, she found it odd that the Dark Lord had been so nonchalant about his human crimes but very little about the operations of his court. She knew that it had the same basic structure and duties of her Fathers’ Court, but there were seedier elements.

On one hand, entering a strange Court uninvited was dangerous, but on the other so was operating on their turf without permission or greeting. She snacked on her chips and sipped her iced tea in contemplation. She hadn’t known there was a court here, much less what kind of offering would grant her peace and passage. She made a note to be more cautious, more aware of the surroundings. A chill ran down her spine like the sensation of being watched. She decided it was probably wise to head back to the hotel now.

~  
“Oh darn, you came back.” Glanni sighed. “I was just getting ready for round two.”

Íþróttaálfurinn rolled his eyes. “I’m glad you’re back, I was just about to discuss my business proposal with your... Uncle here.” He regarded them both with suspicion.

“Sure thing! What’s up Íþró?” Rikki was grinning, she felt that this was surely the key to her mission.

“I’ve uncovered a disturbing case, a strange sickness coming over people in different towns, magical in nature, and with no clear cause. At first I suspected that someone was running a scam as Glanni did in Latabae, peddling poison and antidotes, but I could find no culprit or common link. What leads I have discovered I have been unable to follow up on, as my standing and reputation precede me, sealing the lips of those who have answers.”

“What makes you think I want to help you? I just wanted a fuck.” Glanni took a puff of his cigarette.

Íþróttaálfurinn put a hand to his forehead. “Glanni, we’ve worked together before...”

“Yeah, but what’s in it for me this time?” Glanni flicked the ashes out the open window. Both men were shirtless, Glanni wore only bright phlox boxers but Íþróttaálfurinn had put his pants on. Rikki wasn’t bothered, not only because they were her relations but also because she’d routinely seen her brothers in less.

“Glanni, I know we don’t talk about it but I know you have magic, and your niece here has more. This is a magical case and I can’t face it alone. I don’t have enough magic to reverse the sickness, I can’t even identify it. I was hoping that you might know more.”

“Still haven’t said what’s in it for me.” Glanni shrugged.

Íþróttaálfurinn was clearly irritated. “Well, I was hoping that learning new magic might be enough to interest you, but, since your greed knows no bounds, I do have an elven crystal I am willing to part with if you agree to work with me.”

“Well, let me see the goods then.”

“I don’t trust you not to steal it now.” Íþróttaálfurinn replied simply.

Glanni scoffed. “Fine, where do we start anyway?”

~

Íþróttaálfurinn and Rikki stood alone in an alleyway as Glanni chatted up some contacts to find new leads. The silence between them was tense. Both of them fidgeted. Rikki was aware of her elder sizing her up with magical sight. She had a slight edge on him, but his strength surpassed hers.

“I'm tired of this charade, why are you here? Really, what are you doing here?” Íþróttaálfurinn growled suddenly, lifting her off the ground by her shoulder.

“You sent me, to stop you from yourself, before you make a mistake you can't fix.” Rikki gasped.

“Who are you, really?” Íþróttaálfurinn glared at her closely.

“I really am his niece,” She insisted, then shook her hair out of her face. “But I'm also yours.”

Íþróttaálfurinn dropped her. “Prove it.”

“Your birth name is Alex Magnusson, your grandfather is Anton, you’re trying to live up to the example of your Father and Grandfather before you but are afraid that you aren’t. You will have a panic attack if you are left too long in a confined space, you love the smell of coffee but you won’t drink it.” She sighed. “Technically, neither of you are my uncles, genetically speaking I’m more like your child. My fathers are alternate versions of you two. Something happens to you that corrupts you, absolutely and you destroy your own world before coming to ours. You sent me to stop that from happening again.”

“If I’m so totally corrupted, how did I have the agency to send you back to stop it.”

“You’re bound by more powerful magics than that which corrupted you.” Rikki winces. “Technically, in my world Glanni owns you.”

Íþróttaálfurinn looked truly horrified. “I see.”

Rikki looks very sheepish. “I’m told it’s a lot more agreeable than the time you controlled him.”

“Oh.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of work a little bit of mischief, a little bit of backstory.

Glanni exploded out of the door, clothes in disarray and blood dripping down his face. “Let's go!” He slurred, yanking away from grasping hands. Íþróttaálfurinn punched a face behind Glanni freeing him momentarily from the clutches of the gangsters. Rikki helped Glanni stay on his feet and took a strong stance herself. Íþró had braced himself against the pounding on the door and glanced around the alley for something to barricade it with.

“Let's go to the roofs, you take Glanni.” Rikki suggested. Íþró nodded as Rikki lept up a fire escape. After their conversation, he no longer questioned her inhuman feats of strength and agility. Glanni was about to protest his being discussed in the third person when Íþróttaálfurinn quite literally swept him off his feet and dashed up the fire escape behind Rikki before it could retract.

Gunshots followed as the elf followed the girl's lead across rooftops. “What happened?” He asked of the pouting criminal in his arms, who was casually holding a handkerchief to his face as if he weren't in his current predicament.

“They didn't like the questions I was asking. And I might not have been able to come to an agreement about certain past debts and grievances.” Glanni replied nasally.

“That's unfortunate, did you discover anything of use?”

Glanni put his tongue to his split lip thoughtfully. “Let me think about it for awhile, the adrenaline is kinda clouding things right now.”

~

They packed the hotel room in a hurry, stuffing their suitcases and leaping into the tethered basket.

“I swear this thing is even smaller than I remember.” Rikki grumbled, sitting on her luggage. Despite his protestations of them being designer when Íþró tossed them in, Glanni was resting on his like they were a throne and idly etching Gs into the leather.

“I don't understand why you think that you need so much stuff.” Íþróttaálfurinn noted, his tone clearly encompassing all humans as if both of his companions weren't also equal or even more elf than human.

“Of course not, you never even change your clothes.” Glanni scoffed.

“It's just nice to have pretty things once in awhile.”

“And practical for the kind of work we'll need to do on this case.”

“And this is what you spent all your stolen money on?”

“Please, I put some investments aside, it just takes awhile for them to reach maturity. Assuming that they don't get seized.”

“If that's the case, why are you always such a skinflint?”

“Well, aside from the aforementioned civil seizure of my assets, the fact old habits die hard and I come from the streets, using large offshore accounts tends to tip off the authorities if they pick up a pattern. So I prefer not to leave a paper trail if I can help it.” He picked at his fingernails. “It's kind of comforting knowing that I can just drop it all on a yacht if I need to though.”

“Then why are you a thief? Why do you still steal if you already have so much money hidden away?”

“I'm a professional, darling. What else would I do with my life? This way I mentor in those who are also trying to make their break, bragging that they pulled off a successful job with Glanni Glæpur improves their odds of finding another job. Most of them don't get as lucky as me, it costs an awful lot to be poor, and that much more when you're a wanted felon.”

Íþróttaálfurinn had no reply to that, merely turning to the wind broodingly. “Have you had the chance to ruminate if your friends had any actionable information?” He asked finally.

“Court involvement. I'm not eager to visit the Winter Court, have something of a disagreement with the current Lady, and they certainly aren't going to let in a wandering Seelie. Well maybe in, but you'll never come out.”

“I could go.” Rikki volunteered. “I can be Courtless, mine doesn't exist yet, probably won't in this world, but I know Seelie and Unseelie magic. And, I'm quick witted, good with a knife and a knack with guard dogs.”

“There would be absolutely no protection for you.” Íþró gasped.

“But also no existing entanglements. I know how to wheel and deal, more importantly I know how to Deal and I learned from the best.” Rikki insisted.

Glanni played with his knife thoughtfully. “The only problem is that I don't know the way into their Grove.”

“I do. It's in the park. The trees told me.” 

“Well, let's look through your new clothes to see if we can find you something acceptable to be seen in at Court.”

~

“Greetings, oh Guardian of The Winter Court, I am but a wandering youngling seeking temporary assistance.” She bowed to the apparently stone statue hidden in the brambles. She waited, head held low and eyes on the ground. To the untrained observer it seemed that nothing happened for a long while, but Rikki could feel strange magic crawling over her. She breathed evenly, trying to calm her heartbeat.

First the vines retracted and the stone guardian came to life and lunged at her. She remained still without flinching as the jaws snapped in her face.

“Definitely scarier without my dads.” She muttered to herself. The canid stepped back and sat patiently, revealing a deep stairway leading into the ground. She gave the dog a friendly pat before descending into the unknown, hearing the grinding of stone on stone as the entryway closed.

~

“So how did you get involved with the Courts? I know that you have some magic, but as a human...”

“I'm not.” Glanni replied, peeling an apple with his knife idly. “I'm surprised you didn't know. My father was an Unseelie Lord, my mother his Mistress.”

“I can see why the Lady might have a problem with you then.”

“Oh, nah, not this court. I ran from my Court the second I got out of the pits. Still running as a point of fact. Part of why I got so antsy when I found out that an elf was poking around my schemes. Didn't expect you to keep following me. You Seelie types are supposed to be homebodies, never seen away from glorious Avalon.”

“You don't really look like a half elf.” Íþró muttered softly.

“I lopped the ear tips off as soon as I found a human city.” Glanni flicked his blade in demonstration.

Íþró winced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you following since Dökkíþróttir, you might be able to guess that Glanni didn't actually cut the tips of his ears off with a knife. Roughly where Robbie and Glanni took different paths in life after that.
> 
> Sport and Íþró had differences earlier than that.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm upping the rating on this fic, I wanted to write at least one fic that wasn't explicit but then GlannÍþró happened. Dirty Hotel Room Sex might also get added back in. I was intending to keep the smut separate but I have written so much of it that it seems silly to chop up the works and the series after a little smut, especially considering that if you've read this far you already know how much I love to write my smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was stumped on this chapter for quite awhile.

“Did she tell you who she really is?” Íþró asked softly after some time had passed.

“She's my neice, no big deal.” Glanni scoffed.

“Technically she's our daughter.” The elf mused, still staring off into the distance.

“Look, just because we're different versions of her dads doesn't mean that we have to act like she's ours.” Glanni snarled.

“At the most basic level she is our offspring, and if nothing else she is our responsibility now.” Íþró insisted irritably.

“Kid can make up her own mind.” Glanni dismissed.

“Glanni, stop. I know that you feel it too. I know that you care.” Íþró offered more gently.

“So what?! She's not staying here, why get attached?” Glanni spat.

“Are you saying that she doesn't make you wonder, about the future?” Íþró tried to keep his leading tone even, but knew his wistfulness escaped.

“Don't get all sappy on me elf, it's not like we're packing the right equipment for kids anyway.” Glanni huffed turning away.

“No, but apparently we have the potential.” Íþró shrugged.

“So we gotta start using birth control then?” Glanni snorted.

“Do you know how rare it is for Elven biology to shift for a partner?” Íþróttaálfurinn asked, feeling a spike of something in his belly in regards to the fact.

“People change sex all the time among the Unseelie. I briefly considered it myself in my youth.” Glanni snickered.

Íþróttaálfurinn was surprised by that knowledge, and decided to let the conversation drop again.

“Oh, don't get all maudlin, how about I suck your dick while we wait?” Glanni offered finally after the heavy silence wore on him.

“You really need to learn more ways of passing the time.” Íþró chuckled.

“That's not a no.” Glanni grinned.

Íþróttaálfurinn sighed and leaned back against the rim of the basket, as Glanni drew down his trousers. It was like this whenever they were together for anything longer than a chance encounter. Íþró would attempt to start a legitimate conversation and Glanni would shunt the topic back to sex. He understood that Glanni was not the sort of man to share his feelings easily, and accepted that the sex was very likely the only fashion Glanni understood to share affection. 

Íþró ached to share more with him, and these extended partnerships were the most he could hope for. He ran his hands through Glanni's hair and down his neck, groaning at the determined effort. He sensed that somehow it was wearing down on Glanni as well, he'd been less venomous, less contradictory than usual. Íþró was almost suspicious by how surprisingly submissive he'd been, not even struggling to fight for control, simply desperate to be used. It felt like there was a clue in that he was missing, but before he could catch it, his orgasm was upon him and all he could concentrate on were those smoky grey eyes, the painted lips wrapped around his twitching member in a devilish grin.

~

It was becoming difficult for her to see, and she was starting to worry that she might have walked into a trap, a hidden subterranean labyrinth from which she would never emerge. She was startled when a Cheshire grin appeared in the air before her.

“It's a bit unusual for us to get visitors.” Wisps lit the walls and ahead, the tunnels opening up in her field of view. Rikki schooled her expression as she sized up the young elf in front of her. He was taller, certainly older than her, although he looked of similar age. He was beautiful. His skin was dark and his black hair curled in ringlets about his laughing eyes. He had full sensitive lips and it was about there that Rikki realized that she was staring.

“Yeah? I thought that this Court was a major power in the area, have there been problems or have I been misinformed?” She smiled as sweetly as she could manage.

His lips thinned and eyes narrowed a touch, growing cold. “You are correct that we are the Dominant Power in this region, but I suppose that you could say that we have run into problems. Where are you from? I don't recognize your Court signature.” She'd struck a nerve.

“Technically, I no longer belong to any court, it's why I travel, I'm searching for a new home, trying to see the world and all.” She elaborated.

“Ah, but where are you from? No Court would welcome a new member who had a poor reputation." They both knew that the truth was always a dangerous game open to interpretation.

“I fear that I have but no reputation. I am the illegitimate daughter of Isan Sharkheart, an enforcer of the Melayu Court. I was raised by my mostly human mother who did not know of the Court, and when I came of age and learned of my power and the local court, I learned that my father had travelled away, so I am looking for him.” She improvised, having been considering precisely how she would explain her past and presence.

“Well then, I suppose that I will just have to get to know you and form my own opinions of you. What shall I call you, Miss? I am Visquard, you can call me Vis.” He seemed somewhat intrigued by the tale.

“I'm Rikki. Nice to meet you, Vis.” She reached out to shake his hand, but he carefully turned her palm and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“A pleasure. I'm afraid that you will not find who you seek here.” He offered.

“I didn't expect to. The last rumors I heard of him suggested that he had somehow ingratiated himself in Avalon.” She sighed.

“That does sound as if it would be difficult to follow up on.” Vis allowed. “What can our humble Court offer you then?”

“Information. I'm afraid that I am something of a thief by trade and I was hoping that I might find work through these channels, or at least find out who I need to talk to and where to find them.”

“I see, should I check my pockets then?” He teased.

“Nah, I wouldn't want to make a poor first impression.”

He laughed and set a hand on Rikki's shoulder as he led her deeper into the hallways of the Court.

~

She could hear the noise of the tavern before they were in sight of it, and she was a little put off by how quickly the establishment went silent as she and Visquard entered. She put a foot back in preparation to flee, but the elf boy’s hand tightened on her shoulder, though his eyes continued to comb the bar searchingly. Finally a much older elf stood up and called a greeting.

“Young Vis, to what do we owe the pleasure of your illustrious presence?” The elf was rugged, he looked worn and well used, but not quite dirty. After all, one generally went to Court in their finest, even if it was apparently just to drink with ne’er-do-wells. 

“Aw Rake, there's no need to put on airs between us, I just wanted to introduce you to my new friend Rikki.” She had felt the eyes upon her as soon as they'd entered, but as she and Vis moved forward to join the elf called Rake, she felt some of the scrutiny slough off and conversations quietly returned to a low murmur.

“Greetings, youngling, Rikki is an interesting name for such a pretty face as yours.” He offered, taking her hand in one of his own calloused and thick palms. She found his other hand deftly slipping his fingers into a coinpurse at her waist.

“It's a family name.” She grinned. “And I'm impressed that you didn't set off the mousetrap in my decoy bag.”

“Ah, she's canny then! I gather that you're looking for work little Miss Rikki.” She noticed a fish hook sparkling in his ear.

“Indeed I am, I was hoping that a city this size would have ample opportunity for burgling.” She continued smoothly, palming a ring from him as she drew away.

“What have you got to your name?” He asked, setting the same hand under his chin, eyes fixed knowingly on her the whole time.

“Oh, not much to speak of, but you might have heard about the Draupnir Jewelry job a few weeks back? They needed my help to,” She snapped her fingers with a flash of glittering light. “Crack the safe.”

“Well, a job with The Glanni Glæpur, you must have some talent for the likes of him to take you on. He's notoriously sour company for team jobs.” He offered with a grimace.

“Eh, you get used to him.” She shrugged, tucking her hands in her pockets. She was pretty sure that Rake had let her take the ring from his finger.

“I'd caution you not to get too used to him, he's not very well liked among some of our,” His eyes flicked warily at Visquard who had wandered into the crowd, casually ordering a drink from the bar. “More esteemed fellows.”

“I'll take that under advisement.” She considered what that meant of Visquard carefully. Certainly he must be of a some standing to have been at the door to greet her as he did, and his clothes were of a decently higher quality than that of the tavern’s denizens but nothing overtly flashy, his jewelry simple silver studs with a matching chain, his short sword very plain. In all he was remarkably nondescript for someone who was ostensibly of some rank. He certainly didn't carry himself with the usual imperious air of the High Gentry.

The elder elf flipped a coin in the air thoughtfully during their silence. “I think that you would find it in your best interest to seek out a group of boys I think that might align well with your talents. Not the best paying of jobs, but notorious enough to build your reputation on. I think that they may have a job coming up they could use someone with your expertise with.” He held up a crumpled flyer for a concert venue.

She reached for it but he tutted, lifting the paper out of her reach.

“I don't work just out of the courtesy of my heart.” He grinned dryly.

“What price do you ask?” She returned casually, mindfully cursing herself for having shown such interest, and concerned how much more she would owe for it.

“Just a trifle really, a small token of affection between friends.” He leaned closer. “Just slip on that ring you took, and when the opportunity presents itself, just steal yourself a little kiss from our friend Vis. Oh, and tell no one of this little Deal between us.”

Rikki considered the offer carefully, slipping the ring onto her finger experimentally, before leaning forward to take the flyer, and dropping a kiss on the man's cheek in the process. “Deal.”

“Such a charming little sweetheart you are.” Rake purred. “You needn't be so concerned for our mutual friend. He has bigger threats to worry about than me.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't expecting to be done with this chapter so quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to a punk show is great inspiration for when you need to fill some chapters to move the plot.

She was surprised by how willing, even eager Vis had been to attend the concert with her. Even if it were for illicit business, she intended to enjoy herself, and after all, if she was going to nab a kiss, she'd rather have the opportunity come about organically. Vis was quite the charming suitor for a teenage girl’s first official date.

“So, Vis, these are my Courtless unofficial Uncles, Íþró and Glanni.” She introduced him to her guardians warily, although they were in accordance with her plans, she wasn't sure how they would take to the Court boy.

Vis whistled low. “Don't often see Seelie out in the world.” He shook Íþró’s hand genially and then grinned as he sized up Glanni. “You wouldn't happen to be _the_ infamous Glanni Glæpurí >, would you?”

“That depends on who's asking.” Glanni replied with just as much an amused expression.

“Just a Dark Court kid looking for a good time, takes a lot of balls for you to be on this Court’s turf.” He shook hands more enthusiastically. Glanni nodded approvingly. Rikki and Íþró exchanged an equally puzzled glance regarding the silent conversation that had passed between the Unseelie.

“So, I'm guessing that the lady needs herself a fake ID for the show, or did she think ahead and have one at the ready?” Vis asked her with a carefully neutral expression.

She chuckled. “Uncle Glanni taught me never to leave home without at least four alternate identities.” Glanni beamed with pride.

“So I understand the concept of live music, but what makes this concert special?” Íþró asked.

“The mosh pit for one.” Rikki snickered.

“This is really your first concert?” Glanni asked with pleasure, before pulling him close to whisper in his ear, “I quite enjoy being here to pop another of your cherries.” The elf blushed.

“So, shall we head out now?” Vis asked, offering his arm. Rikki leaned into him with a laugh, her fingers wrapping around his bicep.

“Are you worried about her getting involved with a random Unseelie boy?” Íþró muttered to Glanni.

The criminal laughed. “He acts tough, but that boy won't dare to do anything untoward.”

Íþró found the comment odd, but was distracted as his companions stuffed earplugs in. “It's going to be loud.” Rikki offered, handing him a pair.

“Ready to go participate in mutual violence?” Glanni bid him.

“What?!”

~

It was more crowded than they'd expected for the venue, but then, it was a Court town and they didn't need to worry about tickets. Íþró let himself be dragged up to the front, glad for the ear plugs as recorded music blared from the speakers and from all indications the show itself would be still louder. A few people danced casually to a song or two as the venue steadily filled with people, most of whom crowded into the front with them and Íþró found himself wishing that he'd sat near the bar where there were seats and the crowd wasn't quite as thick.

He was amused to see Rikki and Vis dance a little, and then allowed Glanni to teach him how he was supposed to dance to the music of the coming show. He wasn't sure if he particularly cared for the genre or the wild flailing Glanni demonstrated and at first wasn't sure that the thief wasn't mocking him. After he finally understood the rhythm and admired Glanni's figure working out the gestures, he was willing to give it a bit more consideration.

He was a little surprised that the teens moved to the side as the first band set up, and Glanni was staring at him with a conspiratorial grin expectantly. The crowd had packed in tighter and he could feel the pressure of so many bodies pushing forward.

The music started to play slowly and some people started dancing as others drew away, leaving roughly half a dozen people in the middle of the crowd. Íþró took a moment to breathe and enjoy the new space and then looked up in confusion as Glanni backed into the crowd. Suddenly the music shifted and the crowd re-enclosed him, people were throwing fists, pushing, shoving, shouting, screaming to the music.

After a few panicked heart beats, as Íþró tried to find a balance between defending himself from the crowd and not harming anyone, it finally occurred to him that this was somehow normal. This is what Glanni, and yes, even Rikki had been subtly teasing him about all evening. Íþró pushed his way out of the crowd as gently as he could and headed to the vantage point offered by the bar.

Standing in the middle of the crowd of revelers was Glanni, sparing a grin just for him.

~

“So what do you think?” Vis asked with false coolness during the break between sets.

Rikki overlooked his nervousness with an internal smile at how cute it was that he sought her opinion. “They're okay.” She shrugged. “I mean, they're good, but they're not Great, you know?”

He sighed with relief. “I'm glad it's not just me.”

“Opening bands are always a toss up.” She explained, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Do you go to a lot of concerts?”

“Eh, not really, I come from a pretty small town. I've seen my fair share of bad open mic nights though.” She grimaced.

“So what was that like? I've spent all my life in the city.”

“Boring honestly. The worst part is that everyone is related to each other, so like, the only interesting people you meet are leaving or like your cousin. So I left.” She said simply.

“You certainly are interesting.” Vis offered, moving a little closer. “And I'm pretty sure we aren't related...” He smiled carefully.

“Mm hmm.” She nodded.

“So what does that mean for me?”

“It means that we can kiss.”

“Oh.” He blushed. “I was just hoping that you would say you found me interesting too.”

She laughed and put a hand on the back of his neck. “Was that all?”

“Well, this is a date... I just thought that the kissing was just after the date?”

“Not if it's a good one.” She purred.

“Well, in that case...” He leaned in slowly and she let her eyes flutter shut as he kissed her softly.

It took a second to realize that it was not the beating of her heart, but the opening bass line to the next band.

~

Glanni could just feel the sense of wrongness and he turned from the frenetic energy of the mosh pit. Glanni saw red. A large thick woman had cornered Íþróttaálfurinn at the corner of the bar. Glanni growled loud enough that people gave him space to stalk through the crowd.

“A screwdriver is just orange juice and vodka.” She was explaining loudly as Íþróttaálfurinn wore an inscrutable expression. This close Glanni could see the full effect of her tacky outfit. Her top wasn't low cut so much as threatening to expose the frankly absurdly large breasts straining against the fabric. The shorts she wore were similarly several sizes too small and Glanni wondered how she had even made it past the bouncer with the open fly.

However he could also see that she was as tall, taller even than he was, and the considerable mass of her bulk was muscle, packed denser than Íþró’s. He wasn't sure if she was human, so he didn't necessarily have the advantage of his hybrid vigor.

He grabbed Íþró’s hand for reassurance as he took his mouth fiercely. “How are you, darling, have you ordered our drinks?” He asked pulling away as he stood between the interloper and his...partner.

“I could snap you like a twig, boy.” The woman commented at his shoulder, apparently not having got the message. Glanni turned, not caring that he needed to press his back to Íþrótaálfurin’s chest to afford a gap between him and the barbaric woman. She grinned down at him unphased, in fact Glanni would have called it hunger, like he was facing down a wild predator.

Glanni felt his hackles rising in answer, unwilling to be cowed by a challenge, not over this. He stood firm and felt his face twist into a snarl as he growled possessively.

“You know, I don't mind sharing, I can even accept sloppy seconds.” She replied, leaning against the bar.

“Not a chance, skank.”

“Rude, I shouldn't be surprised to hear it from those dick sucking lips though.” She replied easily. “What do you think, lover boy, joint custody?”

“I would really rather not. I appreciate the offer though.”

“Aww, he's sweet. Probably for the best, I think I'd break you, princess.” She slurred, putting a finger to Glanni's chest. Having had enough, Glanni slugged her, his knuckles meeting her cheek with a loud crack.

“Glanni!” Íþró yelled.

“Again, Not a chance-” Glanni was cut off as a barstool broke over his shoulder.

“I was hoping that you would want to play.” The woman cackled.

“The fuck is wrong with you!” Glanni spat, picking himself up off the floor.

“Oh come on don't tell me that's all you've got.”

“I’ll kill you!” Glanni threw himself at the woman and clawed at her face, trying to fit his fingers around her throat. She punched him solidly in the kidneys and broke his hold effortlessly.

“Ma'am, please stop fighting my friend or I will have to stop you.” Íþró growled coming between them.

“Absolutely!” She swung out at him. “Fighting's almost as good as fucking!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mention OCs sometimes and sure usually they're just like Vis and Rake who exist just to move the plot along, but like Isan, some of them have a history outside of their use in my fics. The woman Glanni and Íþró are fighting is Miera "Bonecrusher" Brisbane. She wanted a fight almost as much as she wanted to bone the beefy elf and Glanni ís just the sort of guy she likes to pick her teeth with. She's just so charming.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot and so much GlannÍþro porn coming along

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't remember if I mentioned last chapter but punk shows are great.

Rikki and Vis were both bouncing with energy by the end of the show, the last bands having been full of momentum, songs about the real important issues in life and the fight to defend them. Despite a world full of problems too big for any individual to surmount, they felt a unity and confidence that with the help of others, all things could be conquered. They were a little confused as the crowd filed out because they didn't see Glanni or Íþróttaálfurinn anywhere. They ended up hanging around in an alley where they were supposed to meet with their contacts.

“Well, what have we got here?” Grumbled a husky voice, accompanied by a steady slapping sound.

The teens looked up at a very tall woman in a leather duster and not much else. Half her face was covered in recently clotted scratches, her left eye blackened and swollen shut. The sound came from the evidently very heavy baseball bat she was slamming into her right hand casually.

“Look lady, we're broke, we spent everything we had at the concert, now we're just waiting for our ride to get here.” Rikki insisted, taking an instinctive step forward and reaching a hand to Vis.

“Aww, kid, I ain't here for your money. I'm here to mess up your boyfriend. Being offered significantly more than you could afford to send him home in a box to mommy.”

“You couldn't beat the two of us inside, what makes you think you stand a chance against four.” Íþró barked as he entered the alley, arms crossed over his chest and Glanni at his side, hands in his pockets.

“Really, going after a couple of kids?” The criminal taunted, flicking a cigarette that had been hanging from his mouth.

“Aww boys, I was hoping to see you again but not like this, now I gotta kill you too, boss said no witnesses.” She said with what sounded like genuine regret.

“A bat is not enough to even your odds.” Íþró scoffed.

“Of course not, but guns are the great equalizer.” She beamed, snapping her fingers. “Bud, Lou, take care of them, I'll get the boy, little girl can watch if she'd like.”

A man even larger than the woman stepped into the alley with a sawed off shotgun, pointing it meaningfully at Íþróttaálfurinn. “You know that they stopped making shot from lead? Bad for the birds or something you know? They use steel now.” He said in an incongruously high voice, broken by giggles.

“Bud, really? Why you always gotta talk to them?” Asked a wiry woman with a pistol, aiming it casually in Glanni's direction.

“Let him have his fun, I know that I like to work in front of an audience.” The lead woman replied as she turned back to the teens. Rikki eyed her carefully as she advanced. Vis stepped back, reaching reflexively to where he usually kept a sword. As the woman pulled back the bat to swing, Rikki lept forward with her knife in her palm, driving it into the woman's face.

Rikki kicked the bat out of the stunned woman's hand and jumped away. She looked up at the sound of gunshots, seeing Íþró ramming the butt of the shotgun into Bud’s jaw as Glanni held the woman assumedly named Lou to the wall with his knife to her throat.

The back door of the venue opened and a very surprised voice demanded. “What the fuck?”

“Shit.” The large woman cursed, tossing the bloody knife to the ground as she held a hand to the very damaged left side of her face. “Looks like it's time to get outta here.” She turned, stumbling only a little as she bolted out of the alley, her compatriots took advantage of the distraction to cut and run themselves.

The newcomers proved to be the new contacts they were to meet, and the second of the bands that had played. They seemed shaken up about the fight and invited the four backstage, insisting that they should avoid involving the authorities. Glanni agreed though Íþróttaálfurinn felt conflicted. Vis tried to shrug off his attempted murder as Court business but refused to elaborate.

Eventually everyone had settled down and talk turned to business. The band prefaced their explanation with a touching if questionably relevant speech on environmentalism and the hierarchies of oppression, but their intended goal was to steal an artifact.

“The Flute of Nárganga is carved from a narwhal tusk, and is said that whoever plays it correctly will assume power over the minds of all those who hear it, and those who play it incorrectly are doomed to a restless death. We want to steal it, destroy it, and return it to the ocean.”

“A noble cause.” Íþróttaálfurinn allowed.

“What's in it for us?” Glanni asked. He didn't respond to the heated glares sent his way.

Somewhat reluctantly the band leader continued. “It's being transferred to the private collection of a man who keeps a variety of both priceless and incredibly expensive items. Feel free to take whatever spoils you can carry after we find the flute.” 

Glanni nodded agreeably. “Sounds fun.”

From there they discussed what they knew about the estate that they would be infiltrating: security, layout, and likely locations for the object. They discussed their skills and relevance for various tasks, different points of entry. It was late in the night before they hammered out their basic working plan and discussed the backup plans. The job would be pulled off in a week, giving them time to prepare and gather equipment.

The band also insisted on sticking with the others on their way home, first returning to the hotel room as it was closer and on the way.

“Hey, I think that I actually want to head back to the Court with the others, since they'll pass right back by here anyway.” Rikki spoke up as Vis and the band prepared to leave.

Glanni shrugged dismissively as the young men filed out the door.

“Are you sure that you don't want us to accompany you?” Íþró asked.

“I just want to spend a bit more time with people closer to my own age.” She winked. “And I'm sure that you two will make good use of some alone time.”

“Same for you kiddo, I saw you macking on that boy. Remember, safety first!” Glanni goaded.

“Oh my gods, Glanni, I'm not going to fuck him. Christ, I'm not ready to have sex with anyone yet, and even if I was, I was an unplanned pregnancy, so I know better.” She paused. “On that note you two are probably fine, my dads were married with an empathetic bond for two years before they hit rut and heat simultaneously.” She marched out the door with that.

“Íþró, I think a teenage girl just gave us a lecture on safe sex.” He pouted with a glint of amusement as he pulled off his shirt.

“She has a point.” Íþró noted neutrally.

“You are going to raw me or not at all.” Glanni hissed.

“If you always make that ultimatum that's all the more reason to wear a condom.” The hero teased as he eased off the tight fitting t-shirt he had worn to the show.

“You ass, you really want me to say it?” Glanni huffed, dropping his pants.

“Say what?” Íþró replied mildly.

“I don't let anyone else raw me.” He muttered.

“Well then, what makes me so special then, Glanni?” It was delightful to hear that the criminal had afforded him such vulnerability.

“Because I trust you alright!?” Glanni muttered, blushing. Íþróttaálfurinn was speechless, not having expected such an honest confession. “I mean, I know you're all healthy and careful... You wouldn't catch anything much less spread it.” He backpedaled quickly.

“You know, Glanni,” Íþró leaned into his face. “I have a very keen nose and I can see a lot in a person's aura. I know that you have been exclusively mine for some time.” Íþró unlatched his belt and kicked off his boots.

“That doesn't mean anything!” He spat defensively, cheeks turning redder.

“I know when you're lying to me, Glanni.” He breathed roughly, his jeans landing with a soft sound.

“Just shut up and fuck me.” Glanni grumbled, looking away, as he slipped off his underwear.

“I think you're mine, Glanni.” Íþró growled, pushing the lanky criminal into the bed. “I think that you want to belong to me. I think that you feel what I do, that when we're together it feels like home.” He had freed his erection and was stroking it.

“Íþró...” Glanni whined gutturally, readying himself with slicked fingers. “Don't talk... Please, not like that, I can't.” He tried to swallow tears even as his body continued to respond to the hero's advances. 

“You know when I'm fucking you it isn't just animal passion.” Íþróttaálfurinn continued, rubbing the blunt tip of his member against Glanni, pressing in just a small amount at a time before pulling away. Glanni whined for more, even as Íþro lifted the thief's legs over his own shoulders. “You know it's not just my cock you want. You want me to claim you, to make you mine.” Glanni dug his fingernails into the elf's flesh, drawing blood as they fit together. “I love you, Glanni Glæpur.” He purred, flexing his hips at a careful pace. “I want to give you more, I want you to feel deserving of all the love I want to give to you.” Íþró pressed a hand into the other man's chest. “Your heart feels like a rabbit. It's okay to be afraid but you don't have to be. Feel mine,” He pulled Glanni's hand to his breastbone. “I'm scared too, but you can take comfort from how steady it beats.”

“Gods, Íþró, I can't...” Glanni whined, tears in his eyes.

“You will.” Íþró kissed him deeply, wiping the tears from the sharp cheek bones with his thumbs.

“Why?”

“I do, that's all you need to know, the rest will follow.” He was starting to groan into his thrusting. “Just relax and let it wash over you.”

“Gods, I just... I just want your cock.” Glanni lied. “I like the way you make me feel.”

“Glanni, tell me how you really want me.”

“Make me forget everything but you.” He panted. “Give me everything. I'm greedy, I don't want anyone else to have you, when you cum in me, it's mine.”

Íþró whimpered, a shudder running through his body as his purring started to rattle him. “You want it, you want me.”

“I like it when you mark me, when other people look at me and know I'm yours and I want you to know you're mine.” Glanni growled biting down on his neck.

“I'm yours, Glanni, I've always been yours.” Íþró gasped. “Gods, Glanni, Glanni, Glanni, I love you.” He felt his release imminent as he pounded his feelings into the other's body. “I love you, tell me that you love me, please, I need you...”

“Íþró...” Glanni groaned softly. “I.... Yes....”

“Yes?” Íþró led, waiting on edge.

“Just yes.” Glanni sobbed, eyes closed.

“Yes, you love me too?” He begged.

“Yes...” Glanni whispered. Íþró knew that he could expect no more and ground down, catching Glanni's lips roughly. He grunted with the effort of his finishing thrusts, even as Glanni's voice pitched up, repeated cries of. “Yes!” His body quivered as he came in slick trails across their chests and Íþró followed close behind.

The elf set his face in Glanni's neck, letting the long legs slip off his shoulders. Both of them panted heavily, eyes closed and enjoying the sensation of the moment. Íþró kissed him again before rolling to his side and pulling him into an embrace.

“Let's not talk about this.” Glanni said in a small voice.

“Okay.” Íþróttaálfurinn agreed, breathing into his nape as he rested a hand over Glanni's still fluttering heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had to cut the smut scene in half and this is still a longer than usual chapter. Next chapter might be more of the same depending on how much plot I work through.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The GlannÍþró smut takes less of a front seat from here.

It wasn't five minutes later that Glanni broke his own silence. “What brings on all of this... Emotional stuff? Is it the kid? The cat fight?”

“I won't deny that they've influenced me. Looking at Rikki all I can see are possibilities for us, and seeing you fight for me, well...” He kissed the square jaw. “I do admire feats of strength and athleticism, fighting is certainly that.”

“You say... Rikki... Makes you think of possibilities... Are... You saying...?”

“The thought of siring a child by you is an incredibly desirable idea to me. I would very much like to see it made a reality. I respect that you may not feel the same but it certainly adds an extra element to my ardor.” He stated, trying desperately to keep his voice even. Glanni trembled into the heat of the words.

“I have to admit that I don't find the idea quite as displeasing as I ought to.” Glanni said carefully, picking at the sheet he had pulled to his chest.

“I wasn't attracted to that woman.” Íþró commented softly.

“I know, it was part of what made me so angry. Only I'm allowed to take advantage of your good intentions.” Glanni insisted.

“I'm glad that you are looking out for me.” The hero chuckled.

“I'm just protecting my investments. I'd hate to train a replacement.” The thief replied drolly.

“I don't think you could ever replace me.”

“True, I can barely teach you anything as it is.” He snarked in response.

“I'm a very quick learner, I just prefer to give you a hard time.” Glanni groaned as Íþró pressed his growing erection against his ass.

“Again already?” He sighed breathily.

“Are you not ready?” Íþró purred, reaching over Glanni's hip to stroke him.

“I didn't say that I was just...” Glanni's words were lost in a loud moan as Íþró slammed into him.

“Let me know if I am too rough.” He offered, settling on his knees and moving Glanni's body into position below him. Glanni simply whined in pleasure, pressing back as Íþró started to pump his hips in a rapidly accelerating pace. Glanni yelled loud broken fragments of words, squealing with delight and gasping for air. Íþróttaálfurinn groaned low in his chest as he pounded steadily harder, reveling in the feel of his partner, his Mate, his mind insisted, coming unraveled, begging for the ravishing he was getting.

Íþróttaálfurinn was soon blinking sweat out of his eyes, almost astounded by how well Glanni was standing up to the treatment, still needy and pleading for more. The hero was concerned that he was pushing himself too hard, that he was about to come too soon, except that Glanni spilled into his hand at first contact, and he felt the snap of his hips as he pressed against the depths, eagerly giving what Glanni greedily received.

~

After a few blocks the tension seemed to fade from the group of ostensible teenagers and they began to crack wise and gossip. Rikki did a bit of showing off in the form of cartwheels, hand walking, and parkour, usually in some combination. When she wasn't entertaining the crowd with her feats of athleticism, she walked with Visquard, their held hands swinging merrily.

Rikki was surprised to learn that the band members were “straight edge” which meant that they didn't smoke, didn't drink and didn't do drugs, they were even vegan. Rikki wanted to joke about how boring it must be or make a comment about dietary requirements but her Pabbi had taught her better than to argue with people's life choices.

“Did you guys ever hear about krókódíl?” She asked instead. “They say it's like a zombie drug, it's like heroine except it rots the flesh away, and it's even worse on all counts. It's big in Russia I think?”

“That does sound bad.” Vis grimaced.

“Actually I think that I heard about a new drug that's similar, except it rots people from the inside out. It started out with models I think, as like an energy boost to speed up your metabolism or something. And at first it works like a dream for weight loss, but then it ruins your ability to eat anything and you just get hungrier and hungrier until you starve to death.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard about that, usually don't people go berserk though? Like, right before they die they just lash out.”

“Something like that.”

Rikki stared thoughtfully, something about the description ringing a bell in her memory but she couldn't quite place it.

“It's just called dust.”

“Yeah, people mostly eat it.”

“That sounds pretty gross, yet another reason not to take food from strangers.” She said finally, wondering at the sense of disquiet that settled over her.

“Oh, hey, we’re about here.” Vis nudged her gently. They were about a block from the park in front of a large brick faced townhouse. It was very expensive looking house. All the band members and Rikki turned as one to look incredulously at Vis, who had the good sense to look abashed while rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. “Oh... Yeah... So... My parents are well off.”

“No wonder you wanted to buy merch.” Rikki commented 

“Well, I mean, I guess it takes people from all backgrounds.” One of the band members offered weakly.

“I'm surprised they let you out.” Another offered with a low whistle.

“Oh, they don't. I snuck out.” He smiled. “Now is my turn to show off by sneaking back in.” He winked, turning towards the wall and scaling the brickwork quickly.

“Hey, wait up!” Rikki called, following him only slightly less easily. “Don't I get a good night kiss?” She offered as they reached his window. He smiled half inside the room as he leaned out to meet her lips.

“I hope we do this again sometime.” He murmured softly.

“Hopefully with less near death experiences.” She giggled.

He laughed at that. “Me too. I'm afraid I must call this the end of the night, as I am a gentleman and I feel that I may have been a touch too forward for a first date as it has been.” He brushed his hand over her short messy hair fondly. “Good night, Rikki, I wish you a safe trip home and sweet dreams.”

"You too." She stammered, remaining still, as she stared at him for a long moment before one of the band members shouted up. “Do you still need the escort home?”

“Y-yeah, I better go.” She blushed, clambering down much less smoothly. The trip back to the hotel seemed to pass by in a flash, dazedly bidding the band farewell before sighing against the wall of the elevator. She knocked before opening the door and was relieved when she heard Íþró’s calm invitation.

She recoiled instantly at the smell wafting out as she opened the door. She had been expecting it to smell like sex, but it was exceptionally pungent.

“Wow, it reeks in here, I know you fuck a lot but really? Wash your stanky asses and we better tip the maid extra for cleaning up this mess.” Rikki started ranting as soon as she got through the door.

“Your little date didn't go well then?” Glanni replied from where he was nestled against Íþró’s chest.

“It was fine! And y’all are naked ain't ya, go take a damn shower and I'll see if they can send a maid up to change your sheets.” She shouted, flopping into her own bed and holding a pillow to her face to inhale the neutral scent of the laundered pillow as much as to avoid any sight of the naked men. She was worried that it was enough to make her sick.

~

“Before we rinse off all the lube, how about another round?” Glanni offered. Íþró chuckled and lifted him off his feet, pushing him into the wall as he adjusted his grip. Glanni eagerly wrapped his legs around the thick waist and let out a loud moan as he sank down on Íþró’s ready shaft. “Gods, I love how you're so strong, just manhandling me like I weigh nothing.” He cooed.

“Oh, Glanni, you're everything to me.” He murmured, meeting his lips as his hips fell into rhythm. The criminal could only cry out in need, overwhelmed by the movement so deep inside him. It was as if before Íþró he had never truly known want. The elf was an addiction, a thirst that could not be quenched. Even as his body ached and he spilled between them yet again, he wanted more.

“Gods, you're like a sponge today.” Íþró chuckled into his neck. “How are you even holding up? You don't usually keep going this long.”

Glanni simply moaned.

“I suppose that means it's time for our bathing then lazybones.” Íþró adjusted to carry the limp villain to the bath where the water almost reached halfway. He hissed for a moment as he eased into the hot water, but Glanni simply melted into it further. “Are you going to make me scrub you too?” Glanni merely gave him a smug grin. “I never thought that I would get to see the Infamous Glanni Glæpur speechless.”

“Never.” He protested with a pout. Íþró simply kissed him and started to rub firm circles with the loofah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We might even actually start getting plot next time.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My chapters have literally doubled just by letting GlannÍþró smut happen.
> 
> Anyway there's some plot here too.

Rikki was almost surprised that Vis called her back the next morning. She'd barely woken up herself and even Íþróttaálfurinn was snoring softly against Glanni's shoulder.

“Hey, what's up?” She spoke softly so as not to wake the sleeping men.

“It's just, well... My mom found out about last night and she kind of made a big deal about it and now you and your uncles and maybe the band need to show up at Court. I don't know if my mom really wants humans under the hill, you know, but since you three saved me she feels like she's got to make a grand gesture.”

“What kind of grand gesture?” Rikki asked carefully.

“Just, wear your best... No pressure, I gotta go. Come as soon as you guys can.” He hung up abruptly. Rikki set down the hotel room phone and sighed over the lack of a smartphone.

Íþró grumbled out what seemed to be a single word. “Oowuzzat?”

“Vis; apparently we've been summoned to court.”

“Why?”

“We saved him and his mom wants to thank us. I think he's some level of nobility.” Rikki looked thoughtful. “He said to wear our best and to be there ASAP, I'll get myself ready, you wake up Glanni and he'll probably help you polish up.”

Íþró nodded as the girl disappeared from into the bathroom, then leaned forward and started mouth along Glanni's neck, running a hand down his thighs and up his belly. The criminal buried his face into his pillow with a groan, but pushed his hips back against the elf at the same time. Íþró chuckled. “If we're quick, we can finish before she's done.”

“That sounds remarkably unheroic of you.” Glanni mumbled through the pillow, but Íþró could hear the grin in his voice.

“Well, we have done an awful lot of rubbing off on each other.” He teased, licking a stripe along Glanni's neck while grasping his ass firmly.

“You're going to spoil me.” Glanni purred, pressing into the hold.

“That's the plan.”

“Well, since we're going fast, you should be a little rougher with me.” Glanni suggested.

“How so?” Íþró asked as he left bite marks along Glanni's shoulder, readying himself for penetration.

“Put your arm around my neck,” Glanni directed, his throat resting in the hero's elbow. “Pull my hair and bite me while you fuck me as hard as you can, squeeze down with your arm if I'm getting too loud.”

“I'm not sure that's safe....”

“Just do it, I'll be fine, I have practice.”

At first Íþró was hesitant. “I don't really want to hurt you...”

“You won't, but the pain becomes pleasure for me.” Glanni insisted, pressing back against Íþró’s heat.

It took some adjusting for Íþró to compensate for the new positioning, to find a rhythm and the right level of pressure Glanni demanded. If it weren't for Glanni's obvious desire for it, Íþró might have felt ashamed for how quickly he adapted to the new technique and the necessary brutality of it. As it was he was nearly overwhelmed as he forced Glanni down, ramming into him with wild abandon and feeling the choked off vocalizations against his arm. His fingers twisted tighter in the short black hair and he was having to smother his own sounds by biting down on Glanni's nape.

Glanni was adrift in a haze of pleasure his body being rocked as if by the waves of the ocean, crashing over him, dimming and sharpening sensations until he felt heat spread across his belly, as Íþró growled into his neck, filling him with his own release.

~

“Really?!” Rikki screeched as she exited the bathroom in a stylish yet practical getup.

Glanni was sprawled carelessly across Íþró, whose arms were tucked behind his head.

“He's awake now.” The hero replied smugly.

“Unbelievable. I can't believe that you're even less subtle than my dads. At least they pretend to keep their sex lives to themselves, even if they're so much worse when it comes to PDA.” She ruffled a towel over her hair one last time before grabbing her things. “I'll meet you guys at Court.” She finished, heading out the door.

“So, again?” Glanni asked, sliding himself astride Íþró's hips.

Íþró shrugged with a chuckle. “Might as well.”

“It's always best to be fashionably late.” Glanni reassured before sinking himself down on the thick shaft, squeezing himself as he did so. Íþró watched him, mouth open and eyes fiery as the slim criminal worked his body for selfish pleasure. He started to groan as Glanni began to falter, then grabbed his skinny hips and started slamming upwards into them. 

Glanni's hands gripped his shoulders for balance as his body started to spasm. Íþró was both purring and growling as he finished. He enjoyed the way that their scents were so mingled, that he was marked across his chest by Glanni and that Glanni would still bear his own even after a shower.

They showered briskly, Glanni turning down his advances for the first time all week with the insistence that he would prefer to be able to walk under his own power in front of the Court. If they had been visiting a Seelie Court, Íþró might have been a touch more abashed at showing up in front of nobility with a mate so clearly marked. Perhaps especially because it was an Unseelie Court, Íþró was glad that no one would be able to mistake him for being someone else's.

He paid close attention this time as Glanni worked his magic over his wardrobe. He had known that the criminal used his glamours with many disguises, but Íþró was impressed with his finesse with fabric, teasing a suit from his own collection to fit Íþró’s broader build. It was green and gold, with embroidered accents.

Glanni dressed in royal purple, though he wore a suit jacket as well, underneath his waistcoat was more of a bodice than a waistcoat, fitting over a flowing gown which gleamed like the night sky. He had to catch his breath as one of Glanni's long pale legs slipped through a thigh high slit and he rolled fuschia stockings up his freshly shaved legs. His eyes widened further as he saw the massive spiked heels he wore with the ensemble.

“How do you even walk in those?” He asked as Glanni touched up their makeup.

“With grace.” He smiled, teeth gleaming white between his dark lips. “And I see you're starting to appreciate what I spent all of my ill-gotten gains on.”

“It... Is rather fetching.” He allowed, trying to downplay the hitch in his voice and the flush on his face. Glanni laughed and reached for his arm.

“Come now, we wouldn't want to leave Rikki waiting so long as to get into trouble.”

~

Trouble could find Rikki all on its own, but fortunately was only in the form of Rake, greeting her before she arrived on the Court grounds proper.

“Hello, sir, I was wondering when we would meet again.” She reached for his hand and he palmed his ring back. “I hope that my performance was adequate.”

Rake considered the energy of the ring. “Well I wouldn't say that you stole those kisses, but I only required the use of his first. The rest are a welcome bonus. A pity that your own first wasn't among them, that would create quite the potent mix.”

She shrugged. “You know it's not proper to insist that a girl kiss and tell.”

“Ah, but I am not exactly a proper gentleman. Still, if you would allow me to escort you until you are reunited with your beau?”

“And what will this cost me?”

“Merely the charm of your lovely presence.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little more roughly written than I preferand mostly boring elf politics and fashion.

Rake was, of course, an excellent escort, entertaining her with choice commentary and introductions as he filled her in on the juiciest Court gossip. There was significantly more activity evident in the halls today, especially for an elven establishment, things seemed an extra level of urgency.

“What's got everyone so wound up?” She asked finally.

Rake chuckled. “I was hoping that you would figure it out on your own but I suppose that I will have to spoil part of the surprise. We may be a Winter Court, but I think that you will find that we throw some of the greatest parties.”

“Every court says that.” Rikki snorted.

“Ah, but are they ever wrong?”

“I suppose that I have never attended a dull Elven party. I went to a Seelie party once and was surprised by how much those tightwads loosened up after a few rounds of wine.” This got a laugh from the man but Rikki pressed on unperturbed. “So what's the surprise?”

“Well, tonight there will be a feast in your honor of course, along with your friends. Brave heroes to rescue a boy in danger, unaware of his status...”

“What status?”

“I'll let you ask him yourself.” He grinned, twirling to present her to an anxious looking Visquard, dressed in the kind of finery she had only heard of. She felt self conscious, plainly underdressed in comparison.

“Hey, Vis.” She called gently, with a timid wave.

“Rikki! I'm so glad you're here, I was dying with all these fussy old people around.” He greeted, excitedly, taking her hands.

“I heard that they're throwing a party? For me? And my uncles?” She asked carefully.

“Yeah, I tried to tell her to keep it quiet but she wants to make a statement, a show of power to any would-be usurpers, rival courts or assassins lying in wait.” He looked exhausted. “I'm probably not going to be able to go out on another date unsupervised for awhile. My mom's going to have me escorted by a security detail everywhere I go now.”

Rikki had enough experience with Elven Courts to recognize a sudden hush followed by excited murmurings and looked up to see her uncles entering. Although she was nearly taken aback to see Íþró in a finely cut, well-tailored suit, having only ever seen him in his armor or occasional athletic wear, it was Glanni that stole the show. The crowd opened for him and all eyes were upon him. He carried himself in the cool collected fashion of nobility himself and didn't deign to acknowledge the attention, walking with long unhurried steps toward Rikki.

“I should have known to expect Glanni Glæpur to make a dramatic entrance.” Vis chuckled. “I haven't told my mom it was you who were involved in saving me yet. I expect that she will make her appearance sooner rather than later just to catch up.”

Rikki could feel a prickle of anxiety, noting the charged tension in the air. Glanni simply smiled thinly and that was how she knew that things were considerably more serious than she'd expected. Even Íþróttaálfurinn managed to somehow stand up even straighter.

“My dear Visquard, you forgot to mention that I had made the acquaintance of one of your rescuers.” Rikki turned and if she had been anxious before, she was terrified now. Her spine had petrified into a ramrod straight position and she gave a wobbly, deep curtsey as the hall mostly sank to its knees. Cautiously Íþró followed Glanni's slight nod with a shallow bow from the shoulder. The tension was thick and only Glanni, Vis and his Mother were animated as if impervious to the drama about them.

“I'm dreadfully sorry Mother, in all the excitement, it must have slipped my mind.” Vis grinned unrepentantly. If there was one constant Rikki had learned from living amongst elves it was that they valued their children above all other duties. That said, Visquard’s deliberate lapse in manners was certain to grant him a lecture later.

“So, Glanni Glæpur, I suppose that I owe you my thanks in defending my son against his attempted assassins.” The Lady's expression was cold, her smile threatening. Rikki was enthralled by her ethereal beauty, her skin the same blue black as a raven’s wing, her braided hair reached to her waist and glimmered red in the light. Her eyes were as dark as onyx, pools of mystery. Her gown flowed like a cloud, a mighty roiling thunderhead, a vibrant pallette of grey lined with silver and shot through with gold and other colors that danced like an iridescent rainbow.

“You're quite welcome, My Lady. I would have done the same for any kith of my kin.” Glanni's voice was airy and cool. Every bit polite and casual, familiar even. Of course this was a huge breach of etiquette, for Glanni to be addressing the Lady of the Winter Court as if they were equals. To some this would be a grave insult, even a direct challenge.

The Seasonal Courts were a step below the division of Seelie and Unseelie, an ancient traditional title, fiercely defended, fought for and won. The Lords and Ladies of the Seasonal Courts ruled coalitions of regular localized Courts. The Lady of the Winter Court was, in essence, a Queen. Visquard, a prince. Glanni, a fugitive, outcast, bastard son of a particularly impoverished local Court’s Lord. That he had managed to further incur the Lady's personal wrath made his current bearing nigh suicidal.

On the other hand, she had invited him, and there was a feast to be held in his honor. The only way to lose face in the Courts was to break one's word. It was naturally, unthinkable that the Lady would rescind her offer. Instead she smiled tightly and addressed Glanni with the crowd.

“Your bravery has been noted, and will not go unrewarded. Tonight we shall have a ball celebrating your heroism, if your compatriots would introduce themselves to our Court?”

“I am Íþróttaálfurinn, of The Seelie Court Álfheimar on the Isle of Avalon.”

“I'm merely Rikki Robinson, I come from far away and am unaffiliated with any court.”

Though the Lady seemed mildly curious about Íþróttaálfurinn, but she narrowed her eyes at Rikki searchingly, her lips slanting to a crooked smile. Then she returned to addressing her court.

“We welcome you, our honored guests, and may you enjoy our hospitality.” With that, the crowd broke. “You gentlemen may either remain within the court or return later for the festivities, but I would like a word with the maiden.”

Vis gave her an apologetic, if supportive glance, as Rikki nodded and followed the Lady's lead. It appeared to be a sort of dressing room behind the throne that she was led to, the lady sighed and sunk into a divan chair. “So, I apologise if my son misinformed you, I quite appreciate the versatility of your outfit but I am afraid that it will not quite suit your status at tonight's feast. I will offer you free reign to explore the royal wardrobe and you may keep what you choose to wear for the night.”

“Th-thank you, my lady, you, you're beautiful, I mean, your outfit.” Rikki stammered, knowing she was blushing at the exceedingly generous offer.

The lady laughed. “I can see why my boy likes you, such charming honesty. Tell me though, what is your actual origin? I can tell that you aren't properly in your own setting. I can see the mark of a Court affiliation upon you, even if it is one I do not recognize.Furthermore, I know Isan Sharkheart and I can see no resemblance between you. If I were to sink you in the water I have no doubt that you would drown.”

Rikki took a deep breath, eyes wide as her worries boiled over.

“You need not fear, I will keep your secrets to myself, I am simply curious to know more about the girl my child is courting. He's very young, but then you are younger still.”

Rikki nodded. “I'm fifteen. My da- dam is half human and has a Fae background, my sire is a sports elf.”

The Lady seemed thoughtful. “So very young. It would be a mistake for me to tell you not to break his heart, alas, that's how they learn. How old do you think Visquard is?”

“Well I know he's older than me, he looks like he's maybe 17 but I know that he's probably in his twenties.”

“He's nearly twenty seven.”

“Oh.”

“Some believe that it's an issue of elitism, a misplaced sense of importance in the class of those of us called High Elves, but the truth is merely that we would rather not face the reality of disparate lifespans.”

“Was... Visquard's father..?”

The Lady smiled sadly. “He was able to watch his son become a man before his last days. I could only maintain his youth for so long.”

“That must have been hard for you.”

“I appreciate your sympathy, but I have weathered worse. You should prepare for tonight, Alva can lead you to where you need to go.” The Lady was clearly dismissing her as hand maids appeared from elsewhere. One of them was the indicated Alva, slight and shorter than Rikki, who had a musical giggle and eager to lead her through a sea of fabrics the human world would never see the likes of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter starts with more GlannÍþró smut


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glanni knows exactly how to act in Court.
> 
> Which is why he likes misbehaving so much. The sports elves are less casual about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the smut, we're going to have a bit of a dry spell after this.

Íþróttaálfurinn was neither surprised nor unwilling when Glanni pulled him into a closet. His fingers had been itching to run up Glanni's leg since he'd first watched the way it emerged from the slit of the skirt. As he made contact, Glanni obligingly lifted it to his waist and Íþró groaned, pressing him against the wall. Glanni chuckled huskily. “I should dress up for you more often.”

“Please do, but I can't guarantee that I'll be gentle with the fabrics.” He muttered between kisses and bites to the tall man's throat.

“Oh, Íþró, I think we both prefer it when you're rough with me.” He purred as the hero boosted him higher against the wall, hands on his hips. Glanni began unbuttoning Íþró's shirt, to slide his hands and gently drag his nails against the muscular chest.

“You may have a point.” Íþró growled, his fingers pressing aside the silk panties and noting with a gasp that they were already damp. “How... When did you get prepared...”

“Trade secret.” Glanni grinned, teeth glimmering in the half light. The smug look was wiped off his face as Íþró plunged into him all at once, both moaning loudly.

“Gods, Glanni, you're so beautiful.” The elf praised, looking up at his lover.

“You're not so bad yourself stud, you clean up real nice.” He replied.

“You really don't need to flatter me, Glanni.” He chuckled before biting down on his neck to earn a sharp yelp as the criminal squirmed against him.

“You know that you love my big mouth.” He grunted as Íþró settled into a comfortable pace, supporting Glanni's weight easily as the heels dug into his back, like a knight using spurs to urge on a horse. Íþró took the encouragement enthusiastically, adjusting his angle and speed until Glanni was swearing loudly.

“Glanni, someone might hear you.” Íþró panted lightly.

“Fuck! Let them!” He gasped, fingers clenched in his partner's hair.

“You aren't worried about being caught, getting in trouble?” He teased, reaching between them to tug firmly on Glanni's protruding erection.

“Fuck, gods, Íþró!” 

“Glanni, that's blasphemy.” Íþró laughed, feeling sweat starting to trickle down his neck.

“If you really want to shut me up, choke me.” Glanni managed between squeals and curses.

“Like this?” Íþró’s grasp was gentle but firm and he felt a thrill run down his spine at Glanni's smothered vocalizations against his palm. He could feel how much the other enjoyed it and that more than anything drove him on, daring to use greater strength, ramming Glanni into the wall for all he was worth, relaxing his grip whenever the criminal started to go slack, kissing him wildly as he gasped for air, to take the hoarse cries of pleasure into his own mouth.

It was no surprise that the exceptional pace brought him to climax sooner than usual, but as Glanni had already messed his skirt, the elf was unbothered by his most recent test of his stamina.

“Oh, gods, don't move, I can't use my legs right now.” Glanni croaked. Íþró chuckled breathlessly into his neck savoring their mingled scents on the air. Despite that he was spent, he still felt overwhelming desire for his partner, and as he firmly gripped the thighs around his waist, an idea came to him. “What?” Was all Glanni managed to question before his legs were thrown over Íþró's broad shoulders and he felt an eager mouth where the hero's member had just vacated him. All he could respond with were hoarse squeals as he writhed in hypersensitive pleasure.

Glanni was certain that he had lost the ability to walk by the time Íþró finally pulled away. The hero seemed to sense this and slipped around to cradle his mate in his arms. Glanni found himself kissing the musky mustachioed face, but as he'd learned to appreciate rather than detest the experience he simply enjoyed the sensation of being kissed senseless and savored their mingled tastes.

“We should probably get cleaned up and return in something a little fancier for the night.” Glanni rasped after they finally took a breather.

“We're still going to have to walk through the crowd.” Íþró noted, slightly abashed but unrepentant. Glanni waved a hand before unclasping the small bag he carried and pulled out moist towelettes and snapped his fingers to glamour them with the scent of flowers.

“It should get us back to our room without being totally improper.”

Íþró shot him a sly look. “I get the feeling that you've been planning this.”

“Always be prepared, they say.”

~

Rikki could only roll her eyes when she found her uncles in new outfits at dinner. She could recognize what had been Íþróttaálfurinn's usual armor, but it had been polished and now bore a metallic finish across the chest plate. The admittedly tacky yellows were now a gleaming gold and a shirt of chain mail had been added. The track suit racing stripes were absent and the scarf replaced with a gorget. His head was uncovered and his hair hung in gentle waves down his neck.

Glanni wore a black suit with a silver tie. It should have been too simple, but instead made him into a silhouette, his pale features throwing him into sharp relief, making him appear monochromatic, like a classic cartoon character made real. His animated, angular demeanor only increased the uncanny resemblance. Rikki worried her lip as she tried to pin it down, the flare at his hips and the coat reaching his thighs, making a sharp vee of his torso. 

It was the hat, she decided finally, that made the picture complete. Wide brimmed and carefully turned to slant just so, telegraphing even his slightest change in expression with a dramatic flourish. Somehow despite having what should have been the plainest design in the room, the unsettling effect of his only presence was impossible to ignore. It was like Isan shadow stepping along a wall in full daylight, except that Glanni kept sinking into the background every time he stilled, making his gestures even more startling whenever he moved.

She ended up seated next to Visquard, his mother on his other side, then Glanni, Íþró and some of the Court officials. Rikki wasn't totally certain who the figures to her right were, they were clearly of enough importance to be seated at the head table, but they were not as important as those seated near Íþró.

After the ceremonial toasts and speech were concluded the meal began and slowly conversation bloomed.

~

Íþróttaálfurinn felt uncommonly uneasy being the subject of scrutiny by so many. He was no stranger to being the center of attention, but this felt more like being critically analyzed than the admittedly freeing sensation his performances granted him. Was it simply that he was used to an audience that was impressed by him? Or was it just that he had become so accustomed to living with humans that being in the presence of his own people made him feel like a troublesome child again.

The Court advisor to his left had certainly been shooting him judgmental sneers all evening. Conversation was stilted at best and in true high elf fashion every comment addressed to the Sports elf felt like a subtle snub. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wondering how much of the heavy feeling on his shoulders was due to the chain mail he was unaccustomed to wearing as opposed to the psychological effect.

Glanni naturally flowed in and out of the banter, gossip and small talk like a particularly whimsical butterfly cavorting about a garden. Íþróttaálfurinn shouldn't have been surprised at the ease with which Glanni mingled with every tier of society, but it still gave him a shock when he felt the long fingers slip up his thigh. Íþró startled, straightening so quickly that he nearly spilled his water.

The advisor gave him a dirty glare and had the nerve to actually scoot away. While Glanni's fingertips rubbed incredibly distracting circles nearing his groin, Íþró heard the sotto complaint of the advisor to his other dinner companion.

“Can't believe how tacky to be out in public while in Rut.”

Íþróttaálfurinn immediately felt the air leave his lungs in a whuff as his face burned with sudden heat. The last several days made a lot more sense in retrospect and he wondered how he hadn't been able to notice it himself. It fit, too well actually, the way he and Glanni had been an extra level of amorous, Rikki's constant complaints about their musk. Íþró spared a slightly panicked glance to his mate, but Glanni merely flicked him an unconcerned wink and squeezed his thigh, even as he pressed his hand between them.

~

On Rikki's end of the table things were less tense but she felt nearly as lost and out of place. Despite being the Lords’ daughter, the Lazy Town Court was so small and intimate that she knew everyone almost intimately, all friends, neighbors, even relatives. She wasn't quite as denigrated or treated as the outcast by her present company, but she was still out of her depth as she was surrounded with conversation about strange people, places and things she knew nothing about.

“I found some humans trading in the most horrific kind of dark magic recently. The poor fools treat it as a drug, totally oblivious to the fact they're burning out their essences.” Someone snorted.

Suddenly, it clicked. “Are you talking about Dust?” Rikki interjected.

The elf leveled her with a dull stare before responding. “Yeah, I think that's what they call it.” They replied diffidently.

Practically vibrating with excitement, Rikki was positive that she had finally figured out the cause of Íþró’s investigation into the mystery illness. If she was right about the rest of her hunch, she'd also uncovered half of her mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sure hope that nothing angsty happens between this and their upcoming burglary job.
> 
>  
> 
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I like heists as much as anyone but damn if they don't get harder to write as you continue to write more of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what's up Glanni's ass.

“So we still need to find out who's behind the Dust trade, the producer, not just the dealers.” Glanni discussed over their coms as they infiltrated their separate marks on the estate. The trio were using a separate channel than the band to speak freely, but would still receive messages from them normally. So far the line had been fairly quiet except for regular intervals of check in times and negative confirmation regarding the contents of different rooms in the collection.

“I just hate knowing that I can't do anything for the victims.” Íþró huffed morosely.

“I think that it has to do with why I'm here too.” Rikki admitted. “Because if I'm right, in my world you were the one making it; distributing it openly, but a more refined and subtle variant.”

“But I would never-”

“Exactly.” Rikki agreed. “Whatever changes you, to make you that way, it's not really you. I know that for sure now, I know you now, how you are before, and I know who you really are inside after. I just don't know what that other thing is yet.”

Although Rikki was very enthusiastic about the progress she'd made on her case and the mission, as well as excitement with the present burglary job, she couldn't help but notice that her uncles were having a falling out. She knew that bickering was a regular part of their relationship, but she couldn't reconcile their current distance with their previous closeness. 

At first she was worried that they'd taken her constant scolding to heart, especially the first night Glanni insisted on sleeping alone. Íþró had been confused at first but gracefully let the other man have his space. When it continued, the elf had moved back to his balloon and was clearly struggling to maintain a facade of calm, despite that his kicked puppy demeanor was obvious.

Glanni behaved as if nothing was amiss, if more venomous. Even Rikki had started keeping her distance, had begun to consider joining Íþró in the balloon at the way the criminal would snap without warning. Even at rest he seemed to be more tense and agitated than usual. He refused to acknowledge that he was acting any different and naturally tore a new one any time someone tried to address it.

“I found it.” Crackled over the intercom. The bassist if Rikki recalled correctly. “I’m in the mid basement, in the south wing.”

As the group closed in on the subject of their search, aside from Glanni focusing on looting, they discussed the security measures in place and how best to circumvent them. It was something of a surprise then, when Glanni’s voice crackled to life in a hissed tone.

“We have company, same fucks who tried to kill the kid.”  
Sure enough, the trio from the alleyway entered the gallery some few minutes later.

“Ah shit, not you guys again.” The large woman groaned. Rikki noticed with some small measure of pride that she wore an eye patch over her freshly scarred face.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Rikki spat as Íþró stepped forward defensively.

“Same thing you are by the looks of things. That pretty little flute.” The two groups faced off, tensions high. “I'll take the big guy, Lou take the girl, and Bud, I'm sure that you can take the skinny vegans.”

“We outnumber you two to one.” Íþró replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah and I'm sure that your twiggy boyfriend is skulking around somewhere too.” She replied. “By the way, my name is Miera Bonecrusher and it's a damn shame we keep meeting like this. Maybe after the job we can get some coffee, drinks maybe?” Íþró didn't respond to her banter, focusing instead on avoiding, circumventing and redirecting her casual blows.

Rikki and Lou circled one another, drawing knives, as Bud walked towards the band with a demented chuckle. 

Miera was more than a tough opponent, Íþróttaálfurinnn quickly realized that she had a damage threshold not only far beyond a human’s but likely his own. She took his blows with vigor, and when she returned them his only hope was to dodge, as one punch threw him back to a wall and left him groaning, barely getting to his feet in time to redirect a knee to his face. When they’d fought before, he hadn’t realized just how much both of them had been holding back. At this rate they were likely to destroy the entire room before either of them went down.

Lou and Rikki were reaching a similar stalemate, both bleeding from slashes to the outside of their arms. Rikki had an additional slice across her cheek and she’d only managed to tear a strip from Lou’s shirt for it. She was glad she’d decided on a point first stance as a defensive backhanded stroke wouldn’t have allowed her the same striking distance. She was lucky for her lanky teenage frame giving her just enough of an edge in range, because her opponent was clearly more experienced and that much more desperate to get a finishing blow. When she narrowly avoided her uncle’s collision with the wall she realized that it was past the point of plausible human ability, and sparked magical flame around her fists. Lou cracked a grin, summoning a similar aura of a fiery red orange.

The drummer hung from Bud’s neck, himself being crushed against the wall, and desperately tried to maintain a grip to cut off his airway. Meanwhile the tank of a man still managed to fight on, even with the guitarist clinging to his legs, the bassist hammering at his kidneys and the vocalist himself held by the throat while being used as an improvised flail. Their only real hope was that he would finally fall to the lack of oxygen and that the elves would finish their own fights soon enough to help heal them. Bones had already been broken and their time was running out.

Glanni managed to get the drop on Miera, squeezing her neck for all that he was worth. He was slammed into a wall for his efforts, but Íþró took the advantage to pin her with his own hands at her throat. She grinned through bloody teeth and winked, grabbing him around the waist with her legs and wiggling lecherously, pressing up against Glanni with her ass. She kept it up with good humor until she finally lost consciousness.

Rikki regretted bringing magic into the knife fight, and once Miera slipped to the ground Lou redoubled her ferocity, using her own blood as a weapon. Her telekinetic streams extended her reach, and each splash burned like hot oil, leaving Rikki with welts of blisters rising on her skin. She tried to dodge and use her own magic as a shield but she was tiring rapidly. 

Practicing combat magic was dangerous at best and she’d never been very skilled at dueling with what they had been allowed to practice with. One thought finally crystallized for her. _If you can’t control your opponent, control the environment._ Slamming her fist down, Rikki opened a split in the wood flooring. Lou yelped, scrabbling to grab onto the edges and then Rikki closed the hole around the woman, leaving her struggling with one hand above the floor and the other locked in place against her side. Rikki stepped on her free hand and took her knife as a trophy.

Bud hit the ground with a thud, Glanni looked up from where he was hog tying Miera, who was starting to come around, and passed another length of rope to Íþróttaálfurinn, nodding in the direction of the felled giant. Rikki triaged the band members, the vocalist would have trouble performing for some time, but no one would die or suffer permanent injury.

Glanni swore. The others looked up to see that both Lou and the Flute of Nárganga was missing. It was at about that moment that a team of armed police officers entered the room.

“Hey, now that the job’s over, wanna go out for drink some time?” Miera grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miera knows what she's about.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would date Miera.

Glanni sank into the tub with a long sigh. Although he felt the tension draining from his muscles it did nothing to dissipate the tight knot of emotion in his chest. He hated it really, the whole situation. Not for the first time he wished he’d simply died or never been born. Living with the pain was too hard, trying to think through every possible implication. 

He hated pushing Ithro away, he couldn’t deny it to himself anymore how much the elf had come to mean to him. Someday soon, he’d hopefully be able to tell him. It was still too soon, too early to know how things would go from here. He took Rikki’s warnings seriously, and more importantly couldn’t trust himself. 

He’d been trying to do better, taking only the jobs he needed, investing more carefully, had even cut out a number of his favorite vices. He wondered if anyone had even noticed. He hadn’t had a cigarette since the concert, longer since he’d drank. He was already regretting that it had been a week since he’d slept with Ithro, every second was a fight with every drop of his willpower not to give in and spill everything.

He reached down to pleasure himself, despite that each time found him more morose than ecstatic, a reminder of how much more he preferred a partner. A reminder of his willing, virile partner who watched him longingly, begging for reconciliation with sad eyes. Glanni whined, deep in his throat, these thoughts would not help him find release.

Instead he started over, giving up pretense to just think about Íþró's finely hewn body, the thick, muscular, well balanced proportions. His sheer density of mass, solid as a rock face. Glanni moaned and thought about burying himself into the tight heat of that strength, the sinewed back and shapely ass below him. Íþró didn't often let Glanni take the upper hand and usually the criminal much preferred the pleasure of being roughly used, but when Íþró took Glanni's length he would melt. Glanni felt a purr rising in his chest, thinking about how the hero would gasp and squeeze him, voice tight, broken elvish in a high pitch. 

He smiled, the jig would be up now, couldn't pretend anymore that he didn't know exactly what Íþró would reveal in those stolen moments of intimacy. He felt his body shudder in response, realizing for how long he'd known the elf had loved him. Glanni bit his lip as tears pricked his eyes. He'd been feeling so uncommonly emotional over the situation and he hated it, the feeling of a loss of control over himself. At the same time the pain of it added something extra to his climaxes, pushing through until the end when such an impact drew sobs from him, even if emptiness followed.

He looked at his semen trailing through the bathwater with a crooked frown. He wondered if he ever could convince Íþró to carry a child for him. He'd ask some day, if he could figure out how to trigger the change in the elf. He stood to rinse himself as he let the water drain from the tub. He reminded himself that his self imposed isolation was temporary. A mere matter of weeks to see how reality settled around them. He could handle it, he had waited through worse, for longer, with less hope of an optimistic conclusion.

~

Rikki rubbed at her arms absently. She’d healed them before the police had noticed, but her brain still hadn’t caught up to realize that scar tissue shouldn’t be hurting. She still would flinch with surprise every time she bumped up against a spot that should have been healed. She wondered when Glanni would finish with his bath, hoping that a soak might help her nerves settle down and her brain to realize that her skin was whole. She flopped back onto the bed and blew her hair out of her face.

Íþró staggered in through the door and collapsed next to Rikki with a loud sigh. She patted his shoulder reassuringly. He grumbled under his breath in elvish and Rikki snickered at the particular use of epithets. Glanni emerged from the bathroom in a half buttoned shirt and loose pajama pants, hair still wet. Rikki sprang up off the bed and rushed in, leaving the two men to face each other alone.

“So, they bought it?” Glanni inquired boredly, nibbling at his thumb.

“Technically, you are in my protective custody and you are helping me on a case.” Íþró sighed, running a hand over his face.

“I guess there are perks to working with a hero after all.” Glanni shrugged, sitting on his bed and rifling through his bag for nail polish. “Anything else of interest?”

“Miera agreed to tell me who she was working for if I went out for drinks with her.” He admitted.

“Ballsy of her to say that in front of the cops.” Glanni snorted. 

“We know she won’t be held any longer than you usually are. I accepted her offer.” He groaned.

“So, you can do what you want.” Glanni snarled, clearly tense and uncomfortable. “I thought she wasn’t your type?”

“It’s drinks Glanni, and I need to know who she’s working for, she said it had to do with Dust.” He tried to rationalize.

“You don't have to justify yourself to me, I haven't made any claims over you.” Glanni huffed, with an unwavering fixation on the application of his nail polish.

Íþró could see through the hard facade at this point but it didn't make him any less confused about what was going on in the man's head. It warmed a part of him to know that despite his protestations and current distance that he still cared so deeply. He wondered if it had to do with Rikki's presence and the mysterious circumstances of her mission. After all, she had spent longer with the criminal and had more opportunity to speak of her history with him. 

Or maybe it was just now catching up with him, realizing the impact of what had passed between them the night of the concert. Not only the serious words but the spike of mortal terror, the adrenaline crash after a life threatening experience. It wasn't surprising that Glanni needed some space, he was a man used to keeping his own company and he'd spent weeks now with two significantly more energetic companions.

The tense silence was broken by the ringing of the room phone. Glanni snatched it off the night stand and growled, “What?!” into the receiver. He snorted and hung it up with a crash. “Your date's waiting for you in the lounge.”

~

“I didn't expect you to be out this soon.” Íþró commented as he joined Miera at the hotel bar. She wore a frayed dull duster over the clothes she'd worn earlier, unconcerned with the signs of violence written across her body.

“A friend of mine paid my bail. Bud’s still in the clink though, had to keep one of us in custody and they figure that since we're married I won't ditch him.” She cackled.

“You're married?” Íþró replied with surprise.

“It's not a sentimental thing, we were friends in the service and we got better pay for having a spouse.” She shrugged her massive shoulders casually. “Speaking of sentimental, where's your boyfriend?”

“Painting his nails.”

“Ah, you're having a tiff. Sorry to hear it. I was surprised that you accepted my offer, to be frank. Him, sure, a hedonist never turns down an offer, but you're all.” She gestured to him as if it was all the explanation it required. “Probably spooked him, moving too fast or being too serious or something. A pity, I need to fuck both of you if I want to fuck either of you. I don't think he likes me much and you have your whole thing.” She waved again as she swallowed the last of her drink.

The bartender arrived and Miera ordered two screwdrivers before Íþró could protest. “I came here for business reasons only.” He told her after the bartender went to make their drinks.

“More for me then, but it wouldn't kill you to loosen up. Seriously, if I were younger I'd fuck you anyway, but I'm old enough to know that you need to be attached to someone and it ain't gonna be me. Interesting that Glanni Glæpur of all people would let himself get caught up in all of that.” She gulped her drink. “Guess your dick game must be pretty strong. You should at least try the drink, live a little. Make your boy a little jealous, don't be fooled by his aloof attitude, he's as possessive as they come, no one takes what is his and he's marked you almost as clearly as you've marked him.”

“I really didn't come down here to talk about my personal life.” Íþró growled in warning.

“Too bad, you need my intel and I want to give you some advice. I want you two to work it out because I don't have a chance to verify the dick game until you two sort your bullshit.”

“I don't understand your fixation and insistence that either of us would ever have sex with you.”

She snorted as if it weren't an important detail. “You're both young yet and not grown into your relationship yet, but you'll get there, and I'll run into you guys again then and the idea of fucking me will be planted in your head the whole time because I keep bringing it up. Repeat a thing enough times and it becomes the truth.”

“Right.” He responded flatly, taking a trepidatious sip of the orange drink. He sputtered. “That's terrible orange juice. Orange juice isn't supposed to be bitter, it's stale!”

Miera threw her head back and guffawed throatily. “You've probably never had cheap, ‘from concentrate’ orange juice in your life, have you? But the trick is to add enough vodka to balance the sour. Of course we're drinking wells so it's even shittier, probably stoli or something worse.”

“I appreciate the lesson but I would rather you get to the point.”

“Gotta be your dick because you aren't pretty enough to make up for being terrible conversation as a date.” She giggled. “Don't worry about your boy so much, he's in it for the long haul for you. It's like they say; ‘if you love it; let it go. If it leaves it was never yours in the first place and if it comes back it's yours forever’ And he keeps coming back and if he wanted to leave he'd be gone and you would never find him again. Just be patient, it's like rescuing a wild animal, you gotta let them have their space and approach you on their own terms. Gotta build up trust and rapport to overcome their fear. Push them too hard, too quickly and they'll fucking maul you.”

“I'll take that into consideration. Now, are you ready to get to business?”

“Sure, you got something to write on?” She made sure roll the t in write as if it were a d.

He rolled his eyes before fishing out a notepad and pencil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm Miera, or at least I want to be.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner, drinks and debriefs.

“Rikki, come here.” Glanni muttered a short while after turning out the light.

“What is it?”

“Just.... Don't tell Íþró, but... I just... I’d like to hold you for a little while? Just to help me sleep. I think he's spoiled me.” He grumbled.

Rikki giggled and slid in against her lean uncle. “My dad still asks me to cuddle him sometimes, especially when Pabbi is busy or away. He'll grab my brothers if he can convince them but they usually try to be too tough and grown up to cuddle.”

Glanni merely grunted, letting her scent soothe him, remind him of what he was working for.

~

His bed was empty but her scent remained when he woke. She was a delightful child and he could only hope that he could do half as decent a job at raising children. Normally he would insist that he hated children, they were stupid, messy, rude, noisy, selfish... In short they were simply too similar to him to be tolerable, much as he felt towards cats.

Rikki was brushing her short hair and then shrugged a sweatshirt on. Glanni's eyes roamed to spot Íþró standing next to the door. “Have a good date last night? I noticed that you didn't come up to tell us about it.” He winced internally over how openly catty he sounded.

Íþró stared at him with an inscrutable expression that made Glanni supremely uncomfortable before he replied. “It was a late night after a long day. I went straight to my balloon.”

“I would think a beast like her would rock it free from its tie downs.” He sneered as he sat up and stretched.

Íþró pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly let out a breath. “She gave us a great deal of actionable intel, enough so that I think that we will need assistance from the Court. First, I would like you to look it over and see if you know anything yourself.”

“Doesn't matter, after last night everyone knows that I'm working with you, even if they hadn't already heard it through the grapevine.”

“I still would like to know your thoughts. You know how all of this works much better than I, all I can do is run and jump.”

Glanni knew that the hero was trying to play to his ego, but he was curious enough on his own to find out what the woman knew. It turned out to be a lot and begrudgingly, he had to admit that he was impressed, not just that she was so well aware of the intricacies of the underworld, but that she had shared the information with them so easily. It was almost suspicious.

“I think that you're right that we need to get the Court involved, but we should probably be discreet about it. Luckily, we have an in since Rikki's dating the princeling. I know Rake well enough that he'd do about anything just to take a peek at this paper and he's canny enough to put people out on the streets to look into things. I don't think that the Lady will be pleased to learn about this scam running in her territory and likely by her people, so, I think that we probably have this in the bag.”

“Really? You think it will be that easy?” Rikki asked wide-eyed.

Glanni snorted. “Of course not. But it's a damn sight easier than doing all the footwork ourselves.”

“You would trust an Unseelie Court with all of this?”

“The Court, no, but I know enough individuals with common interests. We won't be completely inconspicuous, but half of the battle is our own ability of disinfo.”

“Disinfo?”

“Believable lies, insinuating that we're zigging instead of zagging, that sort of thing. I wouldn't be surprised if half of this list is that.” He popped a sucker in his mouth as he started to make his own notes on the list. “Rikki call your boyfriend, we should have dinner with his mother and rapscallion friend. Let them take care of the details; security, discretion, the bill.”

~

Despite her upbringing Rikki was starting to realize just how humble the Lazy Town Court was, especially in comparison to the Winter Court. She had expected a fancy restaurant but almost felt that she needed Court finery to enter the mundane but elite dining establishment. The Lady was poised in a large booth with her son sitting at her side and Rake sitting across from her.

“It's nice to have a sit down dinner away from an audience, and so nice not to have to handle the affairs.” The woman sighed by way of greeting. She held the stem of a half emptied wine glass in her manicured fingers and a similarly consumed salad sat before her. There were an assortment of appetizers on platters and several types of breads. “I hope you don't mind that we started without you but we've had our own busy day.”

“No problem, it’d be great to start off with some snacks while we decide on some main dishes.” Rikki beamed, sliding into the booth between Visquard and his mother. Glanni sat next to Rake, and Íþró settled across from him on the outside of the horseshoe shape. The trio of newcomers made small talk as they looked over their menus, the waiter was with them shortly to take their drink orders. 

“So as nice as it is for all of us to be here together, I can’t help but feel that there was a reason that you wanted to meet with us in private.” The Lady broached as the waiter took away their final orders.

Íþró nodded. “I’m sure you know that the humans see me as something of a hero, and I’ve been involved in a number organized crime stings, capturing notorious criminals. Glanni was of course my first public case, and it’s become something of common knowledge that I have used his help before, though he’s in and out of prison. Currently I’ve been trying to track down the cause of a mysterious illness that I now believe is a result of the Dust drug use. I have uncovered evidence that it’s origin is local and that some members of your Court might be involved in its manufacture.”

“I see, and why do you believe that the drug trade in the human world would be of interest to me?” She replied with her most disdainful tone.

“Because it’s not a mundane human drug, it causes a magical illness that saps out the victim’s very life force, and I think that whoever is behind it is taking that energy for themselves, possibly stockpiling it which is a dangerous threat to anyone.”

“Rake, what do you know about it?” She asked of her subject.

“I was vaguely aware of it, but I didn’t know that it was such a widespread problem. I know a handful of people who are involved with trafficking it, but they’re only in it for the money as far as I know, if what Íþró suggests is true, we’re going to need to investigate much more deeply, I’m curious where you gathered additional information.”

Íþró was about to reply but Glanni cut him off. “Rake, buddy, you know better than to ask about someone's source. What would be the point of divulging all our secrets without making you work for it a little.”

Íþró felt irritation rise in his throat, not that he didn't understand that Glanni was working in the appropriate fashion for the line of work, but he felt like the criminal might have been laying the charm on a little thick. He gritted his teeth and tried to tamp down the fierce wave of possessiveness that welled up in his gut. He knew that this was just business, but between their recent distance and confessions there was an extra layer of jealousy he could usually shrug off. Part of him worried that Glanni was trying to rile him on purpose and a deeper part was legitimately concerned that the man was serious in his flirtations. After all, Glanni had stated that he not only knew Rake previously but also trusted him to a certain extent. Íþró was not happy about his mind's eye imagining the other elf as his lover's former suitor.

“I was under the impression that you were coming to us for help?” The Lady interrupted, regarding the men with a laconic smugness.

Glanni graced the Lady with a long smile and Íþró had to clear his throat to fight a growl rising in his throat. That Glanni was quite clearly and casually flirting with the other adults besides him was grating his nerves. A part of him was growing more aggressive, insisting that he would have to remind Glanni who he belonged to. Íþró took a deep breath.

“We have agreed to maintain our confidante’s anonymity. They fear for their safety in light of their other crimes as they are a mercenary for hire and has incidentally implicated themselves to rival parties.” The Sport Elf managed to explain. It was an almost overwhelming relief when Glanni finally looked at him, his eyebrow arched questioningly.

The Lady smiled. “Very well then, what information do you have for us then?”

Glanni rolled his eyes and sighed, pulling out a list he had personally transcribed and cross referenced. He held it in the air for a second to build anticipation. “But of course, I have to ask, if I show you mine, will you show me yours?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited, we're looking forward to two chapters of action followed by four of domesticity. Then the plot will start to come back.
> 
> Also I hit writer's block in this because my brain needed to segue Íþró's introduction into the Navy Seal rant. I will share the results of that later, but enjoy this for now.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that we have finally got all of that boring character growth and relationship changes out of the way, it's time to get ready for some real action, in case you forgot that there's an actual plot to this thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't bother to proofread this, I'm too excited to get to the next chapter which will finally be the climax of our first plot point.

It was more than a month before the leads began to shake out results. As expected many of the threads of information led to dead ends and significantly less serious crime rings. These were dealt with through various means and channels, everything from Íþró turning criminals over to the police, to the Court demanding their dues or delivering their own forms of Justice. Rikki and Íþró were well aware that it was best that they didn't inquire too deeply into what the Court deemed its business.

Íþró was also continuing to be troubled about his relationship with Glanni, as the criminal kept his distance, often assisting the Court and Rake in particular in their less savory exploits. Rikki had taken up an offer of the Court's hospitality as she found that spending any significant length of time with either of her uncles led to them inevitably breaking down under the strain of their continued domestic strife. They fought more often, and rather than resolving their conflicts with what would have been admittedly unbecomingly aggressive means they would storm off without so much as laying a finger on one another, their words leaving deeper wounds.

Íþró knew that Glanni was his own man, and that despite his feelings and even need to lay claim to him, that he couldn't control or restrain the other. He tried to remind himself that he didn't really want to trap Glanni or make demands upon him, Miera’s words reminding him that for the sake of his love he had to let Glanni remain wild and Free, even if it killed him. Being a hero was difficult, but it required a level of selflessness that anyone would struggle with.

~

Rikki was having better luck in her love life, after a serious conversation between them about their age discrepancies. They had many dates and took things slowly, seldom going further than hand holding or close mouthed kisses, with the occasional snuggle or nuzzling thrown in when they could steal a moment alone. Granted, the ever present security detail acting as chaperones did discourage the youths from indulging in friskier activities. Rikki wasn't entirely unbothered by this as Visquard was the first real experience she had with dating and relationships, so taking it slow was natural.

Visquard had dated in the sense that he had entertained courting other Court nobility, often the daughters of other Lord's and Ladies seeking a share of the Winter Court’s power. According to Vis, they had been tediously boring affairs and the girls ranged in temperament from vapid spoiled boring children to self determined young women who wanted nothing to do with the young princeling. He confessed that he had preferred the latter.

As such, he helped to reassure Rikki about their comparatively drab outings, but she wouldn't have had it any other way. They went on trips to the beach and a private swimming pool that was nearly a water park, she joined his fencing lessons, occasionally they were allowed to go out dancing and once attended a roller derby competition. Mostly they took picnics in the park as it was the Court's home domain and thus safe. They played roller hockey and other sports with the children who frequented the park by day. By night they would take long strolls under the stars and moonlight, talking about their histories or interests.

~

The trio of relations did still follow up on leads of their own together, any time an initial investigation from the Court found something of interest. They had found several stockpiles and distribution centers but so far had not yet identified the source. They were making progress, slowly working their way up the supply chain and unfortunately this had led to an increase in conflicts between the Court and the gangs dealing the drugs, twice as much for those members of the Court who were involved, or still more seriously those from rival Courts.

It wasn't that the city didn't have an active crime rate, after all, any major city sustained a vibrant ecosystem of those trying to survive at all levels from the parasites in penthouses to the vermin in the dumps. However the increased activity and strife between warring gang factions had not only caught mundane attention but was only a few steps removed from a declaration of martial law.

Today's target was another warehouse, they suspected that they would find yet another stockpile or shipping facility and we're almost lackluster in their approach. Glanni shimmied up the fence to clip the razor wire at the top, carefully unwinding the coils so that they wouldn't fly free and slash him once the tension was released. He opened up a generous few feet on each side of the gap before boosting himself over the tall fence and clambering down from the height. He merely rolled his eyes as the sports elves quickly flipped over and landed on their feet, beaming with excitement.

The building was large, nearly the size of some of the wharfs down at the docks. As they scanned the entryways it quickly became apparent that it was too labyrinthine to search as a group, as it was it was liable to take them all night just to search each of the floors. Íþróttaàlfurin volunteered to take the upper floor as he could leap between the catwalks that connected the supervisor offices, and naturally Glanni took the basement, leaving Rikki to skulk around the main factory floor.

No sooner had they reached this conclusion than a familiar scoff caught their attention. “We've got to stop meeting like this.” Miera stood with her compatriots.

“Bud's out of jail already?” Íþró asked with a grin, bouncing onto his toes. Inwardly he was terrified, their last fight had been a very near thing and had been accompanied by backup. He tried to consider and size up their relative strengths and weaknesses. Miera was likely stronger than he was and Bud was still brawnier. He regretted not having asked what form of Fey blood they carried, perhaps it could have clued him into an advantage.

Glanni was probably an even match to Lou, it had been entirely too close a match between her and Rikki. He grit his teeth, glancing between his foes and allies. Rikki would be best suited to the giant, quick, agile and small, as long as she avoided any direct blows she could whittle down his stamina. Íþró would have to attempt a similar approach against Miera, but bile rose in his throat as he thought of the imminent fight. 

His mouth was dry as he knew that his opponents would push their advantages and change up his plan. He was fairly certain that he would be able to hold Miera's attention. He wondered if he could perhaps bargain for their surrender if he agreed to Miera's advances. The thought of submitting himself to what would no doubt be a rough barbaric use of his body disgusted him, but there were very few bargaining chips at his disposal.

It was unlikely though, Miera was a proud mercenary whose loyalty was her trademark. Her group was an elite level of muscle who took jobs that made even Glanni’s con jobs look meagre in comparison. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Rikki flicking out a knife in each hand.

“I'm looking forward to round two.” She boasted, though Íþró could see her trembling, the fresh scars on her arms still standing out in sharp relief to her pale skin. Lou snarled and took a defiant step forward, but to everyone's surprise, Miera put out a hand and stopped her companion.

“Look, I like you guys, you have a lot of spirit, very skilled, cutout for great things and all that. I'd hire you to my team if I could. Now I love a good fight as much as the next person, but if we fight tonight, someone is going to die.” She gave a meaningful glance towards Glanni and then looked at Rikki before returning her focus to Íþróttaàlfurin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me comments, I get so excited writing these and I get so desperate wondering if I am achieving my intended goals, or if anyone even likes this story.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little bit spooky this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have an early chapter, I was too excited to wait.

“Well, what are you suggesting?” Glanni sneered.

Miera cocked her head, gave Íþró a wide lecherous grin as she leered at him before winking. “You see, I figure that if I just let you guys walk away you'll come back with an entire army from the Court. So I can't just shoo you away and pretend that we didn't have this conversation. If we fight and my team loses, I don't get paid. If my team wins then I won't ever get laid by you guys. If I let you guys through, someone is still probably going to die, I won't get paid,and I will be breaking contract and I might not get to sleep with you.” She pulled a cigar out of her best and tore off the top with her teeth before lighting it, chewing it thoughtfully as everyone stood in tension. 

“You see, the thing of it is, I don't really like my boss, his money has been good, he hasn't hired me for anything that goes against my contract yet, and he has treated me with as much respect as I can expect in this profession. But he makes my skin crawl. I have gleefully eaten raw maggot ridden carcasses, I have had filthy dumpster sex and shat in alleys out in the open, so that's saying something when I say something gives me the creeps. Ever since he got his hands on that flute it's gotten worse. I haven't thrown up in my life but just hanging around this place makes me feel hungover and gag.”

She stared coldly into the sky, the moon's light reflecting off the back of her eyes.

“He's a magic user, powerful. I don't dabble a lot but I know he's like something I've never seen. He does most of his work in the basement. Be careful. I'm afraid of what he's going to do when he realizes that I broke contract, but I'm more afraid of whatever it is he's doing in there. Make sure you kill him.”

Rikki’s jaw dropped. “You're helping us?”

“Can't, hard enough to break a contract without directly opposing it.” Miera sighed. “I can't even make a break for it until he starts fighting.”

Her partners were staring at her with unease, and Glanni fidgeted with his knife. Íþró bit his lip. “Are you sure that you wouldn't rather we come back with that army?”

Miera laughed hollowly. “I wish I could let you go, but I don't think that we have time for that. He's got something important planned tonight, it's why we're here instead of mundanes.”

“How long?”

“I have no idea what he's doing, I just hope it isn't already too late.”

~

As one, the trio headed to the basement as Miera described. They nearly blew their cover upon breaching the doors as they recoiled from a revolting stench. Glanni recovered first, grimacing before pulling a bandana over his face. “Rikki might want to hang back, it smells like bodies.” He warned in a low voice. Everyone felt the signature skin crawling that came from the aura of truly malevolent magic. Rikki and Íþróttaálfurinn especially felt sick at the way it was downright unnatural, opposed to the very energies that fueled them.

It was naturally dim, and every sound echoed through the dank chambers. It was surprisingly warm, sticky and humid, but despite all of the stench, no insects or other vermin stirred in the depths. Somewhere water dropped with regularity from different pipes and steam billowed through the twisting rooms. All three were tense, relying on every slightest impression they could perceive, straining their night vision for they didn't dare strike a light and give away their presence.

When they beheld the dim light of ritual candles, their fear had become palpable, they glanced to each other wide eyed, before Íþróttaálfurinn cautiously crept forward. He disappeared from their sight and for several long moments they waited for him. Rikki began to lose her nerve, edging forward around the corner. Glanni hung close behind, uncertain if he should pull her back or continue to follow.

As such he was lightning quick to cover her mouth when she yelped in surprise.

“Sorry.” The hero apologized quietly, as his shaking companions relaxed from their fright. “I don't know enough about magic to tell you what kind of ritual he was doing down here, but there are a lot of books. Also, a sword of Light energy for some reason. I think I might take it, if you guys don't see any magic on it I'm missing. I don't know why an evil mage would keep such a thing around in his lair though.” He explained as he showed them into what seemed to be a haphazard library.

Glanni’s eyes widened at the sight, quickly he dropped to his knees and started skimming and flipping through the spell books, muttering to himself excitedly in different languages. Rikki went to look at the sword Íþró indicated and blinked. “This is the sword you have in my world.” She smiled crookedly. “My dad got stabbed with it once and then had to fight with it.”

“That sounds difficult. It's honestly an unwieldy size, I would guess that it's a troll killing blade, only thing that makes sense for a weapon of that size and thickness.” He blinked and shook his head. “Wait, if I have it then, couldn't that mean that this is what causes me to...”

“Glanni, look at this sword real quick.” Rikki nudged him. He swatted at her before looking up and blinking as he took in what she said. He pursed his lips and gave the sword a dirty look as if it was the object that interrupted him.

“It's fine. I wouldn't be surprised if it glows like the sun when you unsheathe it but there's nothing inherently harmful about it aside from being a sword. Almost certainly a troll killing blade though, the light would turn the wounds to stone after stabbing the troll.”

Íþróttaálfurinn tried and failed to hide his enthusiasm as he reached for it, giving a nervous giggle as he slipped an inch of the blade into the open. The others winced as the bright lights burned their night sensitive eyes. “Sorry, this is just, so cool. These are... It's a relic of another time. Trolls aren't what they used to be. Only a few isolated places in the world still have any and those that are left have diminished in size and ferocity. Much like elves, they've had to learn to hide beside humanity.”

“Yeah, that's what my dads are trying to fix, hoping to figure out a way to open up more cultural exchange.”

“That's what we do in the Dark Courts.” Glanni muttered as he dug greedily through the books and occasionally relics.

“We still need to find out what's going on here, Glanni, have you figured out what this magic is?”

“Not specifically but this is mostly necromancy.”

“Rikki, do you know enough about magic to help him? I'm going to go looking for the mage.”

“I know a bit...” She admitted, picking up a book at random. “This one is about soul magic, my teacher specializes in it... I only know the basics because it's advanced stuff but...”

“Stay here and help Glanni. I'll come back after I find him.” He ordered gently, still grinning at the sword in his hands.

His enthusiasm was quickly dampened as he retraced their steps, after moving far enough that the light of the unsheathed blade wouldn't bother Rikki and Glanni's speed reading, the sword’s light cast long shadows over a veritable graveyard of bodies. Somberly, he returned the blade to its sheath exposing it just enough to light his way back so that he could find his way back upstairs where the indirect light of streetlamps illuminated the factory floor.

It didn't take him long to sight his quarry, his ears quickly picked up the sound of an eerie melody that immediately raised the hair on his body and sent chills down his spine. Consciously he knew that he should turn back, but transfixed by the music, his feet moved of their own accord towards the black robed figure in the rafters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever heard the sound of a bone flute? Would you like to?!
> 
> https://youtu.be/sHy9FOblt7Y


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've almost reached the conclusion of the first story arc. I will be surprised if this fic ends up under 40 chapters at this rate. I miss my domestic Sportarobbie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually starting to lose momentum. I know that this has been a long series, and the fandom is dying down, but I'm a bit discouraged at the lack of comments on this story. I'll still keep writing to finish it, but I think that I'm going to spend more time on my original works rather than trying to slam out all my fic ideas at once. (I have five other series I want to write after I conclude the current unfinished fics)
> 
> The writing is probably going to suffer because of it, I'm hardly bothering to proofread anymore.

Íþróttaálfurinn stared down from where he stood on the railing of the catwalk, one foot hanging into the void when his hand clenched around the hilt of the troll slayer. The mage had misjudged his fumbled attempt to snatch the blade, instead pulling free the sheath as his lips slipped for only a moment from the flute. That was all the hero required to slice the instrument in half, flipping back onto his feet on the secure mesh of the walkway.

“No!” The mage howled as the light flooded the expansive space of the warehouse floor. “You imbecile! All my work, all these years! I should have let that damned sword fall with you.” The mysterious Warlock sneered. 

Íþró was doubly glad for the enchanted weapon when the mage cast a bolt of energy his way. He bore a wild grin but the cold sweat of fear rolled down his neck. He was not a mage and had done poorly in magical duels, never quite as studious on the subject as he should have been, one of many reasons he had chosen to operate primarily in the human world. He could see the mage calculating these facts as he paused. Miera had told him to kill, but the hero wasn't sure he could. For all that he knew that the figure before him was undoubtedly evil of the worst sort, he did not feel that it was his duty to be judge, jury and executioner. This mage should face Justice and he was certain that The Lady would be appropriately judicious. 

Instead it was merely he and the mage, standing above a pit of the vilest poison. Heat roiled around them and Íþró knew that the mage was summoning fire. The only response he had was to bring his own magical fire to bear and hope it would be enough to shield him. The mage scowled and dropped his flames, and instead began to ice over the catwalk. Íþró could keep himself dry, could thaw the ice below, and mostly evaporate the resulting water, but he would need to move carefully to avoid slipping.

The mage was toying with him and Íþró knew it, that he wasn't already dead spoke volumes against a foe of this magnitude.

“What do you want with me?!” He shouted, trying to determine the distance between them, how best he could incapacitate the magic user without also hobbling himself. Instinctively, he knew that he could easily lunge a solid thrust through the thin body, before the mage would be able to react.

“Are you hoping that I will tell you my master plan? Is that what you've gathered from your larks as a hero?”

“I know that neither of us is dead yet, I am a hero and that's why you still stand, but I don't know why you are choosing to spare me.” He could only just see a broad grin under the long hood.

“I know that my security must have broken her contract, but I didn't care about fulfilling my end of the bargain besides. You're shorter than I expected but I'm glad she chose you over her dullard of a partner.”

“Chose me for what?”

“It was easy enough to figure that a woman like her would seek a strong mate, I merely encouraged her. I'm old, and my form will not last long through what work I need to do. My body has served well for all of my knowledge, but high elves aren't known for our resiliency. I know that many of my ilk consider your kind little better than vermin, but I can recognize the utility of a pawn such as yourself. I hear that you call yourselves Sport Elves now, or is that merely a personal or familial affection. I can't be bothered to keep up with the goings on of lesser creatures. I do wonder what your humans would think if they knew that their hero was bred to be a bloodthirsty beast of war.”

“I'm not! We're not, not anymore. We aren't berserkers, we've joined the ranks of wood elves, we're not bloodthirsty!” Íþróttaálfurinn protested, even as he felt adrenaline contradicting his words.

“Maybe not, but you certainly are one, I did do some research on you, I can't even imagine committing the crime you did.”

“It was an accident!” The hero snarled, closing some of the distance between them. His hands shook, his teeth were clenched, and he was actively struggling to restrain the urge to strike the final blow. Tried not to think about how it would feel to kill again. A voice he wasn't sure about coaxed him to act, insisted that this was more important than his morals, that this was the only way to save lives.

“And yet I can see you fighting the madness. I can help you know. I know everything about magical alterations, how to quiet the mind, to sharpen it. A man like you, who devotes so much of his life to physical fitness no doubt seeks to better his thoughts.” The mage spread his arms, stepping closer.

Something felt wrong, he knew that the mage was telling lies, he couldn't trust the words, but at the same time they seemed oddly distorted.

“And after all, you're the one with the sword.” Íþróttaálfurinn flinched, but his grip only tightened on the blade. “It's a pity that these things always rely on blood sacrifice.” The hero blinked, feeling disoriented. He felt like his hand was on fire, like he was gripping the edge of the sword and not the hilt. He glanced down to see that the mage’s hand was bleeding, reaching out to him. He thrust the blade forward on reflex even as he felt his body go rigid, something burning him inside, his consciousness searing away.

~

“Glanni, I don't think that we should have let him go alone.” The teen worried as she paused in the task of stuffing artifacts from the basement into duffel bags.

Glanni snorted. “Well I'm not leaving this haul behind, some of these tomes, this magic is ancient! I can become-” The criminal stopped eyes glittering as he imagined the power that would be at his command after studying the arsenal of magical knowledge.

“Seriously we don't have time for looting right now, something bad is happening and we have to stop it, It's literally the only reason I'm here!” Rikki insisted, dropping the bag to march over to the tall man.

“Then go, I don't care, the elf can look after himself.” Glanni grumbled, shaking his head as he looked back to his task.

“No he can't, stop pretending that you don't care.” She begged, reaching a hand to his shoulder.

Glanni slapped her. “Look brat, I don't care if we're related, I kept you around because you were useful, so either shut up and help me or get lost.”

“Fine!” She charged up the stairwell, shocked to see the scene of Íþróttaálfurinn locked in battle with a mage. 

She bolted across the catwalk, listening to the incantations that held Íþróttaálfurinn in thrall, even as his sword pierced the other man. Rikki drew her knife, heart pounding, she needed to stop this, she had to stop it now. She slashed out closing her eyes as she felt the blade connect with a crack. Magic snapped and they were thrown back, but as she lost consciousness she didn't let go of her knife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, subscribe and bookmark this fic if you've been enjoying it. I'm really starting to feel like there's only maybe two people keeping up, especially when I went a full week without updating anything and no one seemed to notice.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the first climax is resolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I think that I figured out how many chapters I have left they double or quadruple. Anyway, it's coming along and the next few chapters shouldn't hold me up too much as I've had the bulk of them written for months now.

“Wake up, godsdamnit! Don't die, you fuck!” Glanni was swearing furiously from a few feet away. Rikki groaned and opened her eyes, she felt sick, magical backlash of some kind. Glanni was kneeling over Íþróttaálfurinn's fallen form, the warrior's body convulsing as Glanni sobbed.

Rikki forced herself to sit up, the mage had vanished. She reached to where her knife lay and yelped as it burned her fingers. “The warlock was casting a spell, I didn't recognize it. I don't think he finished casting it but he was doing something to Íþró... I... I think I killed him, I felt the blade slip through the vertebrae, but he's gone now, did you see the body?” She crawled over to the two men on her hands and knees. “Glanni? Glanni!” She snapped her fingers in front of his face and then slapped him.

He glared at her in shock, tears dripping down his face.

She looked at Íþróttaálfurinn and felt sicker. “This looks really bad, Glanni, do you know what to make of this, magically speaking? Everything looks wrong.... It's kind of like he’s... Leaking? Whatever... Whatever this is, this is what's wrong with him in my time, I can see it now. That black, the red... It's like bleeding?”

She reached out and grabbed Glanni's hand, showing him what she could see.

“I think he's fighting it but...”

“Let's help him fight it.” Glanni growled, there was a tingling that made her hair stand on end as Glanni shared his magic with her and both turned it into Íþróttaálfurinn. The criminal gasped in surprise. “Rikki... That's his soul under attack...”

“I can't go any deeper, you can, I'll anchor us.” The girl offered grimly.

Glanni looked between them nervously before nodding and closing his eyes. Íþróttaálfurinn groaned, his body stiffening and then falling still as Glanni slumped over. Rikki prayed to any gods who might be listening. She had heard of this kind of magic, had seen some of it at play between some of the adults in her life, but she was trying to manage on the fly what some mages devoted their lives to study. Lacking any other frame of reference she began trying to heal the injured parts of the soul as if it was a physical wound, to close the leaks like she was clotting blood as she saw the fire that was Glanni trying to burn off the invading energies.

It seemed like hours of toil, many times she thought that she was losing one, both or all three of them to the warlock’s angry magic, his dying soul lashing out at the living. It hurt in a way that Rikki had no frame of reference for. Isan had briefed her on soul magic before, she strained to remember what he had said, the feeling of his magic as he'd shown her the way. It was a mage’s last line of defense, the very energy of life, down to the smallest spark.

She was tiring and thinking of Isan always led to thoughts of darkness, darkness led to sleep and the rest she needed. She tried to fight it but the darkness was winning, sinking into the void.

~

Rikki awoke disoriented, staring at the unusual ceiling, the swirls and whorls of roots, lit with glimmering crystals like stars.

“You're not my daughter.” Rumbled a voice both strange and familiar. Rikki startled, looking at a much younger appearing Elf.

“Isan!” Rikki hugged him, though he remained stiff in her grasp, before she pulled away. “Sorry, you don't know me yet, um, so I'm Rikki, I'm not your daughter, but I am your apprentice. Or, will be, I guess, maybe?”

He looked between her and where Glanni lay with Íþróttaálfurinn carefully. “You aren't their daughter yet either.”

“Right.”

“That was some impressive improvisational magic you were using. I don't think I taught you all of that.”

“No, I've mostly been trying to focus on physical form shifting with you. Soul magic was advanced stuff I wasn't as interested in.”

“You need to go home.” He said simply.

“Pardon?”

“Your energy is wrong, you aren't just displaced from time, you shouldn't exist here.”

“Yeah, my uncle sent me back into his past, well, a version of it, because he destroyed his world and wanted to break the chain of events from repeating. I think that I just stopped that from happening. I think that the warlock was trying to possess him, I think he has possessed him in my world. How do you unpossess someone? Can you teach me?”

Isan sighed but Rikki could see the amusement he tried to hide. “One thing at a time, child. So in your world, your relation to them is with a version who are themselves from a different world than yours.”

“Yeah, theirs was dying and so they escaped to mine.”

“Do you know how they did that?”

“No. It was before I was born.”

“A shame. Do you know how you were sent here, or how to go back?”

“Uh, kinda?” She pulled out the notes on the return spell her time's Íþróttaálfurinn had sent with her.

“I see.” Isan said after studying it. “This uses an existing rift. Likely the one originally ripped into your world. Interesting use of magic. Such rifts require impossible amounts of energy to tear open, but it's less difficult to tunnel through one that has been left open. In any case, it's not of relevance to you other than your return trip.” He rolled his eyes. 

“In any case, I think that what you want to learn is what is known as exorcism, to expel unwanted spirits. Usually it's used in defense against demonic forces and specters. A mage’s death spell is a bit trickier, as I am sure you gathered from trying to unravel an incomplete one. I can only imagine what the finished product must have looked like, it is very difficult to subdue the consciousness of a host without consent. Before this I would have told you that it was nigh-impossible.”

“Well, Glanni and I found a lot of books in the basement.”

“I am aware. I have actually taken a position with the Court’s library so that I can assist in their archival. I'm sure that in studying the tomes we will at least find some clues as to how the warlock operated and constructed the spells the way he did. Since you say that you are my apprentice, and since you were a witness to the magic in question, I believe that you will be willing to assist in the work?”

She wrinkled her nose. “That sounds boring.”

“I'm sure that it will be. It also sounds like the best bet you have to complete your mission.”

“But I stopped Íþró from getting possessed, I just need to let the others know and they can do it for me.”

Isan gave her an incredulous look. “Do they have his tomes in your world?”

“I think Glanni studied some of them, and maybe we could interrogate the warlock...”

“That sounds like an awful lot more uncertainty and effort than a bit of studying and light duty.”

Rikki sighed. “Okay, you're right.”

“I'm glad that I picked such a clever apprentice.” He replied drolly, turning to head out of the room.

“Thanks.... Hey wait are you making fun of me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is when things get back to the good stuff.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft GlannÍþró uwu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to feel a bit better, of course, it's also a lot easier when my next few chapters are almost complete.

“You're awake!” Glanni gasped.

“We're alive?” Íþróttaálfurinn asked.

“Better than, the Court is offering us their hospitality for donating priceless tomes to their library.”

“You? Donate?”

“I may have kept the best for myself.” Glanni admitted. “But, since we have an offer to join this Court, the library would be within my rights to peruse and that basically leaves them in my possession.”

“I'm still a member of the Avalon Court.”

“So’s Rikki's friend Isan, who’s now a librarian here.”

“Why would you want to stay in a Court anyway? I thought that you hated court ties, didn't want to settle down anywhere.”

“Sometimes, I can be convinced to change my mind.”

“And what's convinced you this time?”

Glanni purred. “Why, you have of course.”

“Have I? I don't recall indicating any sort of affinity for this court.”

“Well, I'm not sure that Avalon will take me.”

“Glanni... Are you saying... That you want to settle... To stay with me?”

“I'm pregnant, you idiot. I'm not going to raise your child by myself, it'll probably kick it's way-”

Íþró pulled his mate into a kiss with a growl. After a moment of soft caresses, Íþró furrowed his brow. “Glanni... I know we mentioned it but... I'm surprised that you didn't attempt any contraceptives.”

“Well, you said you wanted...” Glanni looked away, biting his lip.

“Since when do you care what I want?”

“Since you wanted me...”

“Of course I want you Glanni, I've never made a secret of that.”

“Well, yeah, but...” He sighed uneasily. “Lots of people have wanted me, my body, to own me... But you were the first to really want to...Keep me.” He fidgeted with his hands. “I knew that if I got pregnant you wouldn't leave.”

“Oh, Glanni, all you had to do was ask.”

“You could have said no, and I couldn't risk that.”

“Oh, my love, my beautiful stupid idiot.” Íþró nuzzled into his scent. “What a pair of fools we have been. I didn't want to scare you off by being too serious.”

“I probably would have been nasty about it.” Glanni admitted.

“Why do you think that you became receptive now? Rikki said it took her parents years and a Bond.”

“Íþró, we've been chasing each other for years, and there is something that ties us together... And I think it was just Rikki being there which triggered it. Just her presence implanted the awareness of the possibility and our bodies responded.”

“In retrospect I should have realized that I was in rut.”

“I didn't realize that I was in heat at first. I just thought it was because it had been awhile since we'd seen each other and we were trying to make the best of the time we had.”

Íþró hugged Glanni close to him, his hands running down until he gasped, trailing his hands over the just defined bump. “Was this why you weren't letting me touch you?”

“You're touching me now, what does the past matter?”

“Nothing so much as our future, but I do have several fond memories.”

“Is that so?” Glanni purred, wriggling his hips.

“And believe it not they aren't all just the ones like this.” He laughed as he returned the gesture.

“Yeah I bet some of them are about me sucking you off.”

“To be fair, sometimes I'm the one servicing you.”

“Yeah but you always ruin it with the mushy talk.”

“You don't like it when I praise you?” 

“I just... It makes me uncomfortable when you talk about me like... Like I'm...”

“What?” Íþró asked softly, concerned what he had done to make his partner uneasy.

“Íþró, I can't, I mean, I'm a criminal. I do bad things to good people and I like it because I'm good at it. I'm good at fucking too. But you.... You don't care about that and... I don't know what to do or why you stick with me, I don't understand why you chase me, I don't know what you want from me, what you can possibly get out of this and... I can't handle it...”

Íþró was silent for several breaths before trying to clarify. “You...You don't think that you have value outside of your use, do you? Don't you know that every life is inherently worthwhile? That who you are inside is what matters.”

“I don't have anything inside, Íþró, whatever you're looking for, whatever you see, it's not real. I'm just shallow and greedy and empty and I know that one day you're going to realize it and be gone. At least one of us will have the kid to remember the good times with because we can't last.”

“Oh Glanni.” Íþró tried not to cry. “It's not true. You are full of wonderful things. I wish that you could see it. I've seen you at your best and at your worst, I can always see who you really are even though you try to hide it. I never realized that you have been trying so hard to hide it from yourself. I just thought that you didn't want me getting close, that you were just trying to keep everyone away, I should have known that you would hate yourself as much as you proclaim to hate the world.”

“That's what I'm talking about, you're talking about me like I'm a person and that person doesn't exist. It's all a lie Íþró, lies are all I am, it's all I'm good at.”

“I think that is the lie. You lie to yourself because it's easier to pretend that you don't hurt. It's okay to hurt Glanni, it's okay to not know what to do.”

“This is exactly what I mean.” Glanni whimpered. “Just shut up and fuck me, I know how to do that.”

“I'm afraid that I can't muster the enthusiasm to do so while you are crying and distraught.” Íþró offered quietly, face twitching as tears trickled their way through his whiskers. “But I will hold you until you are feeling better and then I might find it in me to make love to you, to help you feel something more than hurt.”

~

Rikki poked at the food on her plate, feeling drained after a day of pouring through old manuscripts, trying to make sense of arcane frameworks above her level of understanding. Isan was a great deal more curt, pushy and demanding in this time. She'd given up arguing with him about the insufficiency of her knowledge on the subjects at hand, especially begrudgingly accepting that she was learning a great deal more from muddling through it than if he had spent the time trying to lecture her on concepts. 

He always had been rather more hands on, but she was accustomed to a bit more guidance when dealing with advanced studies. Perhaps it was simply the fact that they weren't intending to practice the things she was skimming through. Her notes were mostly idle doodles, with only a few possible leads scribbled down to return to later. Isan at least seemed to be having a good time, the other library staff and Court mages were equally invested in studying the rare, ancient knowledge.

She was pretty sure that she'd nearly nodded off onto her plate when a soft nudge to her ribs made her aware that people were staring at her as if expecting a response. “Sorry, I zoned out there for a second, what was that?”

The Lady smiled tolerantly. “I understand that you have been through a great deal of strain, I was asking if you had any preferences in your lodging.”

“Oh, um, well... I'm honestly too tired to think of anything except faceplanting into a pillow right now.”

There was soft laughter at her comment as the Lady replied with a coy, “That can be arranged.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is fully GlannÍþró smut, longer than the average chapter, then I start getting into meaty stuff again, but there's going to be at least a few more smut scenes and hopefully Rikki will be back to the primary timeline by chapter 25.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure GlannÍþró smut. Enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm spoiling you, I know.

Glanni stirred as Íþróttaálfurinn gently trailed his fingers along the inside of the pale thigh. “I know you're awake, dear.” The elf whispered, leaning over him to breathe sweetly against his neck. Glanni groaned and pretended to be undisturbed, even while pressing himself insistently against the escaping hand. Íþró laughed as Glanni opened one eye a narrow slit to glare at him, even as he shimmied his way down the bed.

Glanni squawked in a most undignified manner as Íþró bit down on his thigh, then moved up the sensitive skin with his facial hair teasing. The elf chuckled as Glanni protested, squirming under the playful nibbles. He buried his face along Glanni's hip bones, nuzzling his belly.

“Stop that, you're embarrassing me, you dork.” Glanni whined. Íþróttaálfurinn looked up at him with an unrepentant grin and promptly blew bubbles against a smooth patch of skin. “I'll kill you, you damn elf!” He squealed between peals of laughter. 

His protestations trailed off as Íþró tugged his underwear down, leading his half hard dick to spring up and slap against his belly. Glanni struggled to maintain a glare as Íþró very gently laid a kiss on the tip, before gradually deepening the kiss and lapping slowly up the bottom. Glanni attempted to thrust deeper into the warm mouth but Íþró had anticipated this, in addition to leaning his head back, he anchored Glanni's hips with firm hands.

“Well at least this shuts you up.” Glanni mumbled, rocking his hips with what little allowance he could. “You're going too slow.” He complained as Íþróttaálfurinn continued to tease him to fullness and even then very gradually easing his progress along. Glanni had collapsed into mindless pleasure when Íþróttaálfurinn had finally begun to encompass his whole length. His wordless moans begged for more and just as he thought his partner was about to finally comply, Íþróttaálfurinn pulled away.

Glanni scowled and swore at the suddenly cold breeze over his stiff, aching member, glaring at a smug Íþróttaálfurinn standing naked at the foot of the bed. “Sorry, my neck was getting stiff.”

“I didn't think your muscles ever got tired.” Glanni groaned, reaching for himself. Íþró was quicker, snatching the wandering hands with his own and then pressing kisses to them as he moved to kneel astride the thin hips.

“You'd be surprised how often you manage to push me beyond my limits.” He offered, cutting off any hope Glanni had of retorting as he sank down on the long shaft. “Oh, geez, I always forget how big you are.” The elf moaned as he reached the halfway point.

“You don't need to flatter me.” Glanni groaned.

“I'm pretty sure that you know how you rate compared to the average.” Íþró panted, leaning forward to brace himself against Glanni's tender chest.

Glanni hummed thoughtfully. “How long were you getting ready for me this morning?”

“Long enough.” Íþróttaálfurinn huffed as he finally found himself sitting flush on his partner's pelvis.

It wasn't often that he elected to take Glanni's length and usually allowed the other to control the situation in such events. It was not often that he allowed himself the pleasure of riding as he always found himself exceptionally tender afterwards and with Glanni that was all too often an invitation for trouble. For the moment he simply enjoyed the view of his beautiful mate laid out and staring up at him with a heated gaze. He had to be careful to pace himself, the pleasure he felt from such contact was almost too much for him. The strain and stretch, the relentless pressure.

“Ah, gods, Glanni you fit me so well.” He purred, his voice rattling huskily.

“Nng, Íþró, you talk too much.” Glanni needled.

“I'm sorry I just, have to focus on something, so I don't go off like a two pump chump.” He gasped, sides heaving as he moved, cock twitching with each repetition.

“You do always get so hot when I'm inside you.” He replied with no little admiration for the straining form glistening atop him. He delicately traced a finger along the drip of fluid at Íþró's tip, earning a full body shudder from the elf.

“Glanni please.”

“Please what, lover boy?”

“I can't, you haven't...”

“What if I just do like you like to and just keep fucking you after you cum?”

“I thought that you don't like me getting emotional.” Íþró grunted.

“Hmm, but you see, I think I want you to feel vulnerable, I think I want you to be the one crying out his emotions.” Glanni had wrapped his hands around the thick pulsing shaft and stroked it slowly as he started moving his hips to match Íþró's faltering pace.

“Ah, g-gods, Glanni!” Íþró gasped. “I-”

Glanni took the opportunity to roll, Íþró too lost in his pleasure to try to regain balance. “What was that? I don't think I can hear you.” He panted, delighting in the way the hero twitched below him.

“Fuck, Glanni, I...” He made a keening noise as he started to tense, clenching down on the eager length thrusting into him. “Glanni.” He repeated, the name slipping through his lips like a prayer with each breath.

“Yeah, that's right, babe, say my name.” Glanni purred, leaning forward to nibble up Íþró’s neck and jaw to mouth his ear. Íþró groaned as he stuttered up against him, spilling with finality. “Let's see how you handle me fucking you silly.” He added, not letting his partner enjoy a moment of rest, even as he felt the powerful thighs squeeze him dangerously tight. “When you're so tender and you can't take anymore but you want it all.” Íþró tried to bite back his sobbing moans, but Glanni was too focused on forcing them out. “Do you like that, Íþróttaálfurinn?” He rolled his tongue around the name like it was candy.

“Hnnn, Guh...”

“Can't even speak? How low I have laid you, hero.” Glanni trailed his fingers through the cum on his chest and then tasted it. “What does 'guh’ mean? Are you trying to say my name again, say it's good, so good, or are you crying out to your gods?”

Íþró whined, his body still quivering with Glanni's every carefully calculated movement.

“Gods damn I could get used to you like this.” Glanni growled, ramming himself a little harder into his hypersensitive partner. For all that he tried to maintain control of the situation, Glanni knew he was straining, even while nearly helpless, the elf’s tight heat was driving him on. Tasting him might have been his undoing, the salty sweetness emphasizing his every word. He kissed him again, hoping that sharing the taste might spread the desperation around but all he found was that his need increased substantially.

He hardly noticed that he was coming until he was shuddering his last throes.

“I hope that you get knocked up from this.” He murmured into Íþró's neck.

Íþró laughed weakly. “I would think that you wouldn't want anything distracting from your attention.”

“I don't think you understand how much I prefer revenge to vindication.” Glanni moaned and pulled away. “Now that you're good and tenderized, why don't you tell me what you're afraid of?”

“Honestly, you.” He replied, running a hand through his hair.

“I'm honored then, that I can instill such fear in a venerable hero such as yourself.”

“Oh Glanni, you lovely idiot. I'm not afraid of you being you but... I'm not even a hero anymore.” He looked away with a long sigh. “When Rikki told me why she was here... Well, the evil warlock wasn't the problem I was worried about.”

“What does that mean?”

“Glanni, do you remember when we first met? You were terrified of me. I treated it as a game, but... It did something to me. The taste of your fear... I... I just wanted to chase you down and...” He shook his head. “That's not even... Do you know why I wanted to end this the last time?”

“Because I was going to kill people, that's our rule now, you don't show up unless I am a demonstrably lethal threat.”

“Gods, Glanni... I know that you weren't planning to hurt anyone else... I had to leave, I had to try to move on because I couldn't sleep anymore, I was having nightmares... Do you know why I was the one who showed up to your biggest crimes?”

“I'm guessing that you're about to tell me.” Glanni replied drolly, trying to feign disinterest.

“At first it was just a professional courtesy, I was a hero and they thought that my, our, relationship meant that I could talk you down so nobody would get hurt.” He sucked in a deep breath. “They would have killed you Glanni. I can't count the number of times you should have been shot to death... I... I threatened them, I threatened the police, I threatened their families. I swore that if anyone killed you then I would curse their lineage for a hundred generations.” He turned and stared at Glanni with a glint of madness. “It wasn't going to be enough. I know that you were trying to die, ‘suicide by cop’ they call it. Some day I was going to be too late. Some officer would be too modern to worry about an elf curse, would want the glory for ending the infamous Glanni Glæpur for good, would probably get a gods damned medal for it.”

Glanni stared back, not sure what to say but the purring ripping through his chest betrayed him. He swallowed and admitted in a low voice. “That's actually.... Really hot.”

“Really? That's what you have to say about it?”

“Well, it is... That you... Would do that, for me, going to such lengths... Jeopardizing yourself, your reputation, your virtues, your heroism, for me?” Glanni's eyes were nearly black, only the slightest sliver of silver glimmering around his transfixed expression.

“Well, there you have it. I'm not a good man, not anymore, I've been so very compromised by my weakness for you.”

“I can't wait to see how extra you get once our child is born.” Glanni purred licking his lips.

“Oh don't remind me, I'm already twice as worried sick about you.”

“Imagine if we have a girl like Rikki, craving for danger and bad boys, risky adventures.”

“I might die.” Íþró groaned, palming his face.

“Someone probably will, certainly.” Glanni grinned and nuzzled into him. “So, are you coming around to the idea of joining an Unseelie Court?”

“Glanni, I think I would chase you through hell itself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I have to start working on plot details again *whines*


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catching up.

It was with great excitement that the trio was reunited at dinner that night, with a motley audience eager to share details.

“So Miera came to the Court for a pardon and they brought in reinforcements. The Lady had invited Isan down the moment she heard my cover story.” Rikki explained to her uncles, enthusiastic to fill them in on the details that they’d missed.

Glanni rolled his eyes. 

“I notice that you two are being affectionate again, was it just the near death experience or?” Miera asked cheekily, while her compatriots kept their heads down, scraping the food from their plates as if paranoid someone would take them.

“I still don’t understand entirely why you broke a contract for us.” Íþróttaálfurinn admitted.

Miera cast a long look at Glanni and one of her elongated canine teeth slipped between her lips. “You should tell them or I will. I can infer that He already knows but I imagine that you want to share the news yourself.”

Glanni pouted, then stood with a huff, tapping a fork against a glass and clearing his throat as if to make a speech. The other conversations quieted as several expectant eyes laid upon him. “I got knocked up by this beefy fucking elf. I’m probably due in a handful of months. Fuck off.” He slumped down and shoved a biscuit in his mouth to avoid any further questions.

“You're pregnant?!” Rikki squealed. “I'm staying until they're born, oh my gods I'm so excited for you, Glanni. You love being a parent so much.”

“Keep in mind, Rikki, that the longer you stay here the harder it will be for you to return.” Isan warned.

“I'll burn that bridge after I cross it. A few more months won't make a huge difference.”

“As much as I appreciate keeping you to myself, I can't help but think that your actual family is worried about you.” Íþró chided authoritively.

“Nah, if all goes well they won't even notice I was gone.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.” Visquard mentioned quietly.

“Later...” She replied beseechingly.

“Anyway,” Miera continued. “I broke contract because it would have been broken either way. I don’t harm children. Rikki has declared herself a combatant so she doesn’t count, but I knew that Glanni was preggers by scent back when we pulled off the heist.”

“The warlock was talking about the deal he made with you, what was it?” Íþróttaálfurinn asked.

Miera sighed, then lifted her shirt, revealing an ugly ragged scar across her stomach. “I lost a child in combat. He said he’d fix me.” She shook her head and sat back down. “I don’t trade one life for the chance of another.”

~

Glanni looked himself over in the mirror, half purring and surprisingly impressed with how arousing he found his changing body. He was still definitively male, but the pregnancy had added more to him than the smooth curve of his belly. His hips had filled out, his thighs softer, a general theme of a gentling of his features. He was still long and lean. He moaned as he caressed his swelling chest, nipples so sensitive as they prepared for lactation. He was hard, casually stroking his length as he turned and bent, loosing a low whistle at the sight of his backside.

“Gods, I'd fuck me.” He murmured to himself, putting a finger to his mouth.

Thus was Íþróttaálfurinn's impression as he entered their room. The breath left him as if he'd taken a physical blow and he slammed the door behind him with more force than necessary. He couldn't take his eyes off the long elegant form, the seductive angling, bent and bared to him. He stripped his shirt in an instant, fumbling with his belt blindly as he closed the distance between them.

“See something you like?” Glanni chuckled, standing slowly, before leaning back into Íþró's hot embrace. The elf gripped Glanni's hair firmly and pulled his head back to bite at his neck, roughly pressing his body against him.

“Glanni you're beautiful... And mine.” He growled with a shudder, pushing the thin man onto the bed.

“Coming home to claim me then?” Glanni taunted, rolling his hips as Íþró spilled lube across his hands and crotch.

“Always, I need to make sure that you still want me.” Íþró admitted as he teased in a finger at a time while stroking himself to readiness. Glanni moaned into the attention, pushing back and already aching for more. He didn't have to wait long before Íþróttaálfurinn entered him, and it was almost too slick as he started to move. If Glanni hadn't already been on his knees and supported at the hip he would have collapsed at the overwhelming sensation. 

It was going to be wild and fast between them this time. Glanni loved when it was like this, nothing between them but the primal slapping of flesh, the hard muscles slamming against and into his ass. When all he could do was hold on and struggle just to remember how to breathe, when he wouldn't even be able to feel himself coming because it was too much and so much at once.

It was even more intense with his growing pregnancy, the pressure increased to an extreme degree as he felt so very full. He groaned out at the thought of it, knowing just how much of Íþróttaálfurinn was buried inside him, growing and permanently marking him as his mate. He knew that he wanted this, to feel like this always, over and over. He was shrieking senselessly as Íþró finally came into him with a growl, biting down on his shoulder as he pressed his last traces as deep as he could.

“Oh, gods, Íþró, we are going to have so many kids if this is how it's going to be every time.” Glanni felt the man shudder over his back.

“You aren't worried about ruining your body?”

“Oh, please, I want you to ruin me. I want everyone to see what you've done to me.”

“Gods, Glanni, please.” He moaned.

“We should get married.” Glanni mused as they sank down into the bed.

“I thought that you didn't believe in that sort of thing.”

“Well, I doubt that you want to be the guy with fifteen bastard children so we ought to make it official for their sake.”

“Fifteen?”

“Give or take.”

“Huh... I still need to let my family know.”

“Speaking of promises, you said that you had a crystal for me as payment for helping you out with the case?”

“I shouldn't be surprised that you're bringing up compensation at a time like this.”

Glanni chuckled. “I was just asking if it might be better suited to a gem setting for a ring?”

“That's... Actually charmingly sentimental of you Glanni.”

“What can I say, I'm hormonal.”

“I still don't understand.” He mumbled into Glanni's neck. “Why didn't you just tell me that you were pregnant?”

“I didn't want you to get your hopes up for nothing.” Glanni muttered.

“I suppose, I can understand that... It's not like there's really a guide to it and how it differs with the altered reproductive organs.”

“Oh, I knew I was pregnant this time...”

“This time?! Glanni, have you, were you?” He stared in wonder at his partner.

“I... No, this wasn't the first time that you knocked me up... But I didn't know then... I don't, I didn't take care of myself, I didn't know.”

Íþró sucked a deep breath in through his teeth. “It's okay Glanni... You did what you thought was best.”

Glanni elbowed him hard. “I had a miscarriage you prick.”

“I'm sorry.” Íþró winced. “I'm so sorry that you had to go through that alone, when did it happen?”

“That time I found you in rut in your basket.” Glanni grinned crookedly. “It's part of why I avoided you for so long, never sticking around for more than a night. I still wanted you but I didn't want to trigger your rut again.”

“You should have told me, we could have been more careful if you didn't want to get pregnant again.”

“You idiot, of course I wanted to get pregnant again, I just didn't want to fuck it up again.”

“Glanni, what happened then wasn't your fault.”

“It was! If I hadn't been so... Childish, trying to spite you, turning our lives into a game of cat and mouse, god, smoking, drinking, god knows what I was doing in the blackouts. I didn't even know what was wrong with me when I woke up in an alley bleeding out. It wasn't until I saw... I saw...” He trailed off into sobs. “Would have been a boy.” He managed finally. Íþró simply held him close and cried with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news is that this is now a canon part of this story. http://archiveofourown.org/works/9468869
> 
> The bad news is that now so is this.  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10531332


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What could Glanni Glæpur possibly want with a church?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have been struggling with the shift in my schedule that is attending classes, I have only been able to work on things in bits and pieces, and my enthusiasm has been curbed by the relative silence of my readers. Please talk to me, I want to know what other people think.
> 
> Anyway as usual I haven't edited this chapter much and it doesn't feel complete but it's as good as it gets for now.

“It’s later.” Visquard commented.

Rikki smiled defensively. “So it is.”

“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me.”

Her smile grew more strained, almost a grimace.

“I think that’s because you have.” He continued, giving her a dry look.

“I’ve been really busy with the studying?” She supplied, twisting her fingers into her slowly lengthening hair.

“Rikki, I’d really rather you just tell me what is going on rather than pretending nothing has changed.”

Rikki chewed her lip before slumping with a sigh. “What do you already know?”

“Well, you aren’t Isan’s daughter and you’re apparently from another world or time?”

“Yeah, Íþró sent me back to find out what happened to him and stop it from happening again. Really, I could go back at any time but Isan pointed out that I should figure out how to fix what’s wrong with Íþró in my time. And now there’s the baby so, I want to be there for them until then, they’re a lot more fragile than the men in my time.”

“What about us then? Or were you just going to leave because you didn’t want to bother breaking up with me properly?”

“I didn’t know how old you were... Did your mom tell you my age?”

“No, why? Aren’t you like 19?”

“Fifteen.”

Visquard paled. “Four years is a third of the age difference between us.”

“Yeah.”

“So, this is it then? For us? I won’t see you again after you leave?”

“It looks that way, yeah.” She smiled weakly. “Maybe in like twenty years right?”

“Yeah, but you won’t be here, and probably wouldn’t really be you either.”

~

“Hello, I was wondering if Father Rúeben was still among your number?” Glanni asked an usher softly. Íþró kept his hold on his partner's arm, curious what the criminal could possibly want in a church, how he knew a priest by name. Rikki was admiring the architecture and regaling Isan with the details. The usher left and the couple waited until a young man with sandy brown hair emerged. He spotted Glanni with an expression of surprise, followed by a hopeful smile.

“It's good to see you again, you're looking very well today.” Rúeben offered cheerfully. “I'm afraid that you never told me your name before.”

“I'm glad that you remember me, Rúeben, your kindness helped me move onto a path of well, better things. I'm a little surprised that you haven't figured out who I am on your own.”

“I didn't want to presume that you wanted your identity known, especially not in those circumstances.”

“Well, that's hopefully all in the past now. This is my mate Íþróttaálfurinn, we're expecting a child, all signs point to this being a healthy pregnancy.”

“I'm very glad to hear that you are doing well.” Rúeben glanced between them searchingly. “Is there a particular reason for your visit today?”

“Yes, I think that you know. It's time that Íþró meet someone.” Rúeben nodded and led them into the gardens. Íþróttaálfurinn had begun to suspect what was coming but it wasn't enough to prepare him for the sight of the tiny headstone, neatly marked with the name 'Rúeben Einar Íþróttaálfurinnson’. He dropped to his knees as the breath left him and he carefully ran his fingers over the words and the single date etched below.

“Today is...”

“The anniversary, yes.” Rúeben supplied.

“I hope this was okay.” Glanni whispered, kneeling gently at Íþró’s side.

The elf wiped tears from his face with both hands. “It's beautiful.”

“I'm not sure if you knew, Glanni, but these flowers, the ones you tossed in the grave, are forget-me-nots.”

“I'm sorry, Glanni, I'm so, so sorry that I couldn't be there for you... I should have known, I should have been there.” Íþró held his lover close as he sobbed. Rúeben inclined his head and left them in privacy.

“It's okay, you couldn't have known.”

“But I did. I knew that you were in trouble, I tried to ignore it. When I finally gave in all I could find was a pool of blood. I searched every hospital and morgue in the tri county area looking for you. I thought you were dead that day.”

“I had wished I was...” Glanni sighed.

“I never want to lose you again.” Íþró gasped, pressing their foreheads together.

Glanni cupped his jaw and drew his face up to meet his gaze. “I was hoping that you would say something like that.” He smiled.

“You always have an ulterior motive.” Íþró sighed.

“Marry me?” Glanni grinned, the sincerity in his eyes almost unseemly.

“Of course.” Íþró chuckled with relief.

“Well, let's get the others and make it official. That way everyone is together.” Glanni stood dusting his knees.

“You're so brilliant.” Íþró kissed him again.

~

Rikki was bouncing with excitement and giggling. Despite that they were fairly casually garbed and Glanni had seemingly improvised this elopement on the spot, she couldn't help but be delighted for the sake of her uncles. She felt so honored to have seen this side of them, to watch the deep vulnerability and longing develop between them, to see what lay beyond the façade their future selves wore. It was also very interesting to her that Íþróttaálfurinn and Isan were getting along so well, eagerly discussing the intertwined nature of magic with physiology.

She knew that her uncles in her time quietly believed that her dads were the ideal versions of themselves, but Rikki felt that this was the truer course of their happiness.

She was not surprised that Glanni had been planning this, but was still impressed by how cleverly he had set it up, with such a quiet, intimate and meaningful arrangement. It was simple, but poignant, a level of subtlety she sometimes forgot that the flamboyant criminal was capable of. She knew, with a smile in her heart, that he had carefully calculated this to be Íþróttaálfurinn’s perfect ceremony.

“We have gathered here today, to ask for the blessing of two hearts joined as one, for their love and prosperity to flourish, so that one might never need to struggle through their life’s hardship alone.” Rueben began when they'd all gathered.

“Do you, Glanni-”

“Robin.”

Rueben cleared his throat. “Do you, Glanni Robin Glæpur, take this, Íþróttaálfurinn-”

“Alex, Alexander Magnússon.”

The priest had a brittle smile while his eyes clearly held an annoyed look that plainly said 'you were supposed to tell me this before the ceremony’ but once again began, with a hard glare insisting that they should not interrupt him again.

“Do you, Glanni Robin Glæpur, take this man, known to the world as Íþróttaálfurinn and now to us as Alexander Magnússon, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part."

Glanni smirked and Rueben rolled his eyes in expectation. Rikki bit back a giggle as the tall man began reading his own vows. “Íþró, my love, I knew you were the one for me when you didn’t press charges. I’ve had my doubts about us, but here we are. There comes a moment in life when you realize that you’re going to have to settle, but you're the best I’ve ever had, and I have been with a lot of people. I hope that we can always be the only people we can stand at a cocktail party. I promise to tell you what you can pull off clotheswise and be honest when it's just not working. I can't wait to take your last name - so I can steal your identity. Let's grow old disgracefully together. And I do, as, Glanni Robin Glæpur, take this man, Íþróttaálfurinn Alexander Magnússon, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

Rueben had an expression that indicated repeating the vows were unnecessary but realized that he had no hope of reigning in things from here. “And do you,Íþróttaálfurinn Alexander Magnússon, take this man, Glanni Robin Glæpur, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part."

“By the old gods and the new, I, Íþróttaálfurinn Alexander Magnússon, promise to Glanni Robin Glæpur, that I will love you forever. I do, take you to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

“By the power vested in me by God and State, I pronounce you husbands. You may kiss your spouse.” He snapped the Bible closed as Íþró irrepressibly dipped Glanni low, his hold secure as his new husband let himself drape over the strong arms gracefully. The kiss continued for a few beats more than was comfortable for the bystanders and Rueben cleared his throat. The newlyweds continued for yet another moment before Íþró leaned back and set the taller man on his feet.

“So, what should we do for our honeymoon?” Glanni purred loudly, his tone lascivious.

“I would suggest that I bring you home to meet my family but I imagine that the moment we're behind closed doors you aren't going to be very interested in packing for a trip.” Íþró replied slyly.

“As if you would let me escape your sight again.”

“I don't think that you could outrun me in your current condition.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should wrap up the end of this portion of the story and I will finally be back to the domestic Sportarobbie fluff that I signed up for.
> 
> As always, please leave kudos, comments, bookmarks and subscriptions, to feed my ego so I can keep writing.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glanni and Ithro's Wedding Night; Rikki's Sweet Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to split the last chapter in half. The next one might need to be split yet again if I finish fleshing out the four scenes contained within it. This one ended up over the intended word count because Glanni just wouldn't get off.

The newlyweds had retreated to their room as quickly as physically possible, kissing and chuckling breathlessly all the while. Íþró carried his husband through the threshold proudly and kicked the door shut eagerly. Glanni had scarcely touched the bed before Íþró settled over him, grinning and running his hands under the fashionable clothes.

“I'm so happy, you're mine, you're going to stay with me forever.” Íþró gasped as he pressed kisses down Glanni's long neck, resting his face against the sharp collarbone to catch his breath as his fingers made progress in removing clothing. He leaned back with both hands upon the dome of Glanni's belly. “I can't believe I put a baby in you.” His voice cracked, almost a whine.

“Technically you've put two babies in me.” Glanni replied dryly, instantly regretting his words as Íþró flinched. “But I'm sure that we'll have plenty more to follow.” He added, pulling Íþró back into a heated kiss.

The momentary delay soon passed, as Íþró took a moment to pause and finally let his gaze roam over the bared entirety of his new spouse. He lifted Glanni's hand to his mouth, kissing each knuckle delicately before laughing. “You know, I think that I will actually take your surname, patronymics don't typically transfer that way.”

Glanni chuckled deeply, cut off into a high pitched squeal as Íþró nibbled along his side.

“Not fair.” Pouted the criminal.

“They say that all’s fair in Love and war.” He smiled against Glanni's belly, unrepentantly making him squirm with his whiskers. “You know... I think my favorite thing about you is that you're all about extremes. So tall and so thin, so masculine but glamorous, so bossy and arrogant but easily frightened. Even your voice, from so low to so high, so smooth and sharp. It's no wonder I'm so enthralled by you, I never know what to expect.”

Glanni smirked and sat up a little straighter, pleased by the compliments, even as Íþró continued to tease noises from him, peppering kisses along his hipbones. “Vocal training. I like to be flexible.” If there was more to be said, he instantly forgot it as he felt Íþró suckle at his tip, tongue teasing around the slit and below. 

Glanni flexed his hips with a moan as he was swallowed down, feeling strong fingers digging into his thighs. He fisted his hands into Íþró’s hair, grasping as if for dear life. 

“Oh fuck.” He swallowed thickly. “Íþró, sweet- ngh, my heart! Oh yes!” He gasped, praising in broken words as he felt thick fingers slide around to explore his openings, whimpering as they were filled. “Gods, oh fuck, fuck yes, oh fuck me! Ah!” He pushed the head away from his crotch feebly. “Please fuck me, I need to feel you in me, fuck my pussy, fill me up.”

“You can't get any more pregnant, Glanni-minn.” Íþró chuckled hoarsely as he rose up over his partner.

“Fuck me anyway.” Glanni sighed, slipping his legs up the other's torso.

“I can't argue with that.” He purred, sliding easily into the slick channel. He moved with deliberate tenderness, purring roughly as he savored the experience, letting the realization wash over him that this was his home now, he was married, he had a family, he had Glanni. It was everything he’d ever wanted and more. He didn’t want to rush through the moment but his husband was begging for more and harder.

The criminal’s throaty moans escalated to sharp howls as Íþró adjusted his angle and pace, hands firm as ever on his hips.

“Glanni, you're so beautiful.” Íþró moaned, rolling his hips steadily as sweat trickled down his muscular form. The criminal was beyond words, beyond thought, completely surrendered to the heaviness of sensation flooding through him. Íþró had felt the way Glanni had clenched and shuddered around him, but the tall man's throbbing member remained stiff, wet tip flushed as it left smears of sticky pre across his full belly.

Íthró gently took hold of the straining organ and began to stroke it in time with his thrusts, swiping his thumb along the slick underside. Glanni's noises were completely wild as he thrashed beneath his lover's unrelenting passion. Íþró groaned, trailing into a whine knowing that he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer but needing to bring release first to his partner. “Glanni-minn, I love you so much, I don't think I can ever express all you mean to me.” His words were faltering, language failing to capture his feelings as his entire being burned with need. He could barely process the spill of Glanni's release in his hand as he was washed away by his own overriding pleasure.

He collapsed beside his spouse gasping for air, wiping shaking palms down his face, not noticing that he smeared semen through his hair. “By all the, Gods,” The heirs swore hoarsely. “I didn't think I could keep up near the end there.” He admitted as his heart finally managed to supply oxygen to the rest of his body.

Glanni simply purred louder until it trailed off into self satisfied cackling. “I'm so glad to hear that lover boy. I may have noticed that I've been having trouble jacking off lately. I think it's the hormones, harder to get it up even.” He grinned wickedly as he rolled onto his side and smiled at his exhausted husband.

Íþró groaned, unsuccessfully trying to smother his chuckled purr. “You are, as ever, my greatest challenge, I am but a mere mortal attempting to satisfy the insatiable.”

“Well I guess that means that we know what happens when the unstoppable force meets the immovable object.” Glanni's finger played about his lips, clearly seeking unconsciously for the cigarette he would not have. “They fuck.” The two met and held each other's eyes before laughing and further mussing each other's disheveled, sweat soaked hair, kissing playfully.

~

Rikki stared at the calendar thoughtfully as she marked out Glanni’s upcoming prenatal appointments. “Glanni, when was it that I showed up here? I didn't really take notice of the date.”

“Well the jewelry heist you two pulled was September 23rd.” Íþróttaálfurinn supplied helpfully as Glanni looked almost as uncertain as Rikki.

“I was just thinking, because I mean the due date is different from my birthday which led to me thinking about how long I've been here and.... I think I must be 16 by now.”

Glanni snapped to his feet with evidently alarming agility for one so pregnant as he was. “I can't believe we didn't think about this sooner, I can't believe that I could have overlooked my darling niece's sweet sixteen party, I’m going to have to correct this oversight, somehow.”

Before anyone had a chance to process the information, Glanni had clutched her arm in a vice-like grip and pulled the girl through a whirlwind of activity.

She was a touch disoriented but not about to complain as Glanni dragged her around town,stopping through boutiques and confectioners, knowing that even as he shoved her into dressing rooms to pick out her favorite outfits, that he would be on the phone finagling details with his contacts. If his co-conspirators were surprised to see that the criminal was visibly pregnant, they were wise enough not to comment on it. That or he had woven a glamour so subtle she couldn't detect it.

She tried to be humble but couldn't help but bask in the extravagance. She didn't feel like she deserved all of this spoiling, but if Glanni had taught her anything, it was to take whatever she could get. By the time they had returned to the Court she was only mildly surprised to see that it had been festooned with decorations, knowing that there would be a full ball in her honor, deep into the night. Having won the Lady's favor had come with no shortage of perks.

In truth, it was all a little overwhelming for her, at her heart, despite the thrill and survival skills she had honed here in the city, she was a country girl. Lazy Town was practically the smallest of towns, isolated and surrounded by farm lands. For the first time since she arrived in this alternate reality, it really hit her how much she missed her true home. As much as she enjoyed this time to see another side of her uncles, she missed her fathers, her brothers, her friends.

At some point she had finally been partied out, having danced with what felt like everyone in the Court, including the Lady, many gentlemen, ladies and even several children. She escaped to the gardens and was relieved to find Íþró chatting with Isan. Glanni had retired earlier, his condition forcing him to keep somewhat more regular hours for rest. 

Íþró wrapped an arm around her shoulders automatically as she snuggled into his side. She tried to pretend that he was her Pabbi, despite that the bright, flame-like aura was so different from the soothing azure her true father possessed. In much the same way, she knew Glanni's fuschia was too flashy compared to the cool maroon of her Daddy.

“Needed some air?” Íþró asked her softly after a moment.

She sighed and looked up at the men, noticing that they didn't seem as tall as they used to. “Do you ever miss seeing the stars while you're here in the city?”

The older men chuckled. “I know just the thing, how about we go take a closer look?” Íþró offered.

The three walked in comfortable silence to Íþró’s balloon. It was only after they began to lift off that she began to speak again.

“I'm sure now, this is bigger in my time. I think I remember hearing something about it being renovated before my parents got it.” She toed at the boards while knocking her fist at the side.

“It was my father's. We were going to build a new one together when I got my number but...” The hero trailed off, staring into the night with a hard expression, before shaking his head and deftly changing the subject. “Anyway, if we pass over that mountain, it blocks off enough of the city lights that you can see most of the constellations.”

They drifted with the winds until the harsh glare of urban sprawl began to fade. “You know,” Rikki began. “It's still weird for me seeing you two getting along so well. In my world you hate each other.”

“Why?” Isan asked simply.

Rikki shrugged. “I think you slept with Glanni.”

“I can see how that would create difficulties in our relationship.” Íþró said carefully after a tense breath.

Isan remained carefully impassive but Rikki was pretty sure that she saw him blush.

“To be fair, I think that it happened while you were still 100% evil.” She reassured them, noting a measure of tension rising.

Íþró looked at a loss. “Right, genocidal madman.” He tried to smile but it was more of a strained grimace.

Rikki cocked her head at Isan. “You know, despite my first impression I think that you're actually less grumpy in this time, or maybe it's just that there's not that conflict between you.”

Rikki noticed Íþró trying to hide a smirk. Isan noticed the noticing and glowered.

“I'm sorry.” The sports elf choked down a chuckle. “I don't suppose that your Isan has a regular partner?”

“No, for all that Glanni flirts to rile you up I think that my Isan is married to his work and doesn't have a lot of prospects.”

Isan’s glare had intensified as Íþró sniggered.

“Wait a minute, Isan, are you seeing someone?!” Rikki asked in a scandalous tone.

“Not as such, no but...” Isan attempted futilely to dodge the subject

“Oh my God you're boinking someone! Good for you! Who's the lucky rascal?” Rikki giggled, bouncing on her toes unconsciously.

Isan was very clearly about to protest when Íþró sputtered, “Miera!”

Rikki laughed harder than she had in months. “So much for you two getting along.” She chuckled, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

“You should know better than to share details about people's private lives.” Isan chided the hero.

“I'm just saving you the trouble of having her stalk you to find out the truth anyway. Honestly I'm surprised Miera hasn't made sure that everyone knows by now.”

“Despite what she pretends, she does actually understand subtlety when it suits her.” Isan sniffed.

“Honestly I'm just glad she's not harassing me or Glanni anymore, at least no more than is her casual lechery.” The golden haired elf sighed, leaning back to observe the sought after stars.

“I guess I should be glad that she says I'm still a baby then.” Rikki relented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long the delays been, between my health and the frustration of everything I've been off my game. I don't know if I will ever be back on my game or how to return to the high I got from finishing Dökkiþróttir, but I'm determined to finish telling these stories eventually. If you want to be a beta reader or collaborate with me, pm me over Tumblr or Skype or Twitter or basically any platform under the username Kiyarasabel.
> 
> As always, please leave kudos, comments, bookmarks and subscriptions, to feed my ego so I can keep writing.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glanni's feeling a little TOO frisky and gets a little too busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember when the last chapter was supposed to be the last chapter. Hopefully the next one will be the last for realsies this time.

Glanni's enthusiasm about his pregnancy, even his new marriage and life in general, had begun to wane as the third trimester came upon him. Íþró was somehow more ecstatic than ever, as if he were enjoying the former criminal’s return to a more acerbic demeanor. Rikki was pretty sure that he was just acting like a puppy dog out of excitement that their child would be born soon. Despite Glanni's threat that any hand to touch his belly would be severed at the wrist, Rikki had spotted the hero smothering the baby bump with a great deal more than a rub of his hand.

She wasn't sure if Íþró was calling his bluff or was somehow exempt. Perhaps in his own backwards way, like her father sometimes, Glanni used a perverse form of reverse psychology to demand affection. As it was, Rikki hadn't touched the forbidden belly since the fourth month and wasn't entirely brave enough to chance the odds.

~

Glanni woke up from a brief but uncommonly peaceful nap with a groan. It was rare that his soon to be born child stopped squirming long enough for the former criminal to rest, especially now that the due date drew closer. Glanni was reluctant to let anyone know how nervous he was about the inevitability so near at hand, but the intense pressure in his pelvis wouldn't allow him to forget it. Despite that, he'd been somewhat surprised, but pleased when over the last week he had found himself becoming more aroused than he had been for several weeks.

This morning continued the trend and he groaned as he reached around his distended belly to stroke himself. It was clumsy and he quickly decided that he was not going to fumble alone.

“Íþró, love,” He purred thickly, nuzzling his face into the sleeping elf's neck. The hero woke to the attention slowly, his sleepy purr full of questions. “I have an itch that I think you could scratch for me.”

“Is that so?” He grinned, eyes sparkling in the faint light of their bedroom. “What should you like me to do then.”

“Oh just lay there and be beautiful.” Glanni's purr was almost a growl, and Íþró bit his lip, whiskers twitching in response.

“You know that lying still isn't my thing.”

“I didn't say anything about lying still.” Glanni chuckled, licking a stripe up the elf's neck before biting down on an eartip. Íþró whined and pressed up against him, Glanni delighting in the feel of his heat laying against the underside of his belly. “I am going to need some assistance as there seems to be an obstacle in my way.” He leaned back and stretched, knowing that Íþró loved it when he showed off his belly, lovingly stroking his fingers along the stripes of his stretch marks. “I can't really see what I'm doing down there.” He flexed against Íþró’s hips in demonstration, rewarded by a husky whine. “Care to accommodate me?”

Íþró nodded vigorously, eyes almost black in the dark. He drew his legs up and spread them out, first guiding Glanni's fingers to his surprisingly slick entrance. He was lost for a moment as Glanni casually explored for sensitivities before he remembered to reach for Glanni's insistent throbbing, guiding it to his heat.

“Aww fuck, yes that's a good boy.” The criminal moaned, pushing himself deep while Íþró shivered with sensation. “I know that you can do better than this.” He said of the athlete's pose, gripping a knee with each long boned hand, before pulling them higher and pushing them back towards Íþró’s shoulders. Íþró gasped as Glanni sank still deeper into his core, moaning at the pressure and tension of the stretch.

“Oh, Glanni.” He choked, thinking that he could never remember feeling so full. The dark haired man chuckled, grin flashing devilishly in the gloom.

“Oh yes my sweet, I do love the way you say my name.” Glanni snapped his hips with a shudder as Íþró tensed, back arching as he cried out his lover's name again.

“Fuck it's so hot when you surrender yourself to me like this, you want me so bad don't you? Gods, I bet I could make you beg for it.”

Íþró whined pleadingly, knowing that it was better to indulge him than to pretend otherwise, especially with how desperately needy he felt for this, how much he'd missed the way it felt to be filled, to relinquish control to the somewhat sadistic conman. He shivered with delight as sharp fingernails clawed down his sides.

He gasped as Glanni thrust hard, hitting him where he felt everything spasm, unable to contain any of the noises he made as the action was repeated again and again. He was aware of tears on his face as he cried out in ecstasy, feeling his release splash across the large belly forcing him down. Still, Glanni didn't slow, his grin broad as he admired Íþró’s total submission, the way his body clenched and twitched involuntarily.

His purr hovered near the level of a growl as he reveled in his control over the helplessly writhing hero. “Talk to me lover.” He commanded in a tone like black velvet.

Íþró gasped and whined, broken little moans that struggled to find sounds as his pleasure glazed eyes tried to focus. “Glanni...” He breathed, the word stretching across a broad spectrum of emotion.

“Hmmm, none of that mushy talk, darling, tell me about how much you want me to keep fucking you.” He scolded, doing his best to feign casual disinterest. Íþró licked his lips, longing to taste the sweat he could see trailing across Glanni's temple.

“You're so sexy.” Íþró groaned. “You do things to me, I can't even imagine thinking of, you make me feel so hot.”

“Yes, that's it, keep going.” Glanni panted, tone thick with pleasure.

“You're so big, even when it hurts it feels so good knowing that you want me so badly.”

Glanni purred, preening. “Well, you are mine, and I covet you so dearly and I want you to know it.”

Íþró was pretty certain that those words alone were enough to set him well on the way to another orgasm.

“Oh Glanni, So beautiful, so powerful, I'm all yours, I've always been yours since we first touched.”

“Oh, fuck, Íþró.” The criminal felt himself quivering. “That's it, you feel so good, gods you're so tight and so warm and..” His words were cut off with a gasp and a slow moan as he felt his release. More intense than he had ever remembered, so long and wet, his whole body quaking. The fact that Íþró also seemed to be shuddering through another climax of his own just helped extend the moment further. It was only as he lay there, sweat pouring down his body as the spasms passed through him again he realized that they were developing a pattern. Noting that the bed seemed soggy to his knees he looked up to his husband.

“Íþró, dear, I think my water broke.”

~

Rikki was struggling through a maze, people strange and familiar passing in and out of focus as a cacophony of voices argued loudly. She couldn't tell what they were saying, voices ranging from anger to despair. What should have been words blended into howls and screams. She didn't know where she was, tripping over low crumbling stone walls and dead tree trunks. Everything was misted over with a twilight glow, the light fading quickly as dead brambles choked every structure, tearing at her. She didn't know where to run, where the voices came from or where they went. Suddenly she was on the edge of a cliff, looming out over nothingness as the viney wall of thorns began to swell before her. The ground crumpled underfoot and she was falling as if she'd been thrown.

She hit the bed with a thump and yelled, gripping the hand on her shoulder with her nails digging in, growling like a wild animal. Isan watched her coldly as she took notice of her surroundings, her quiet room in the Court, soft lights on the ceiling illuminating the older man as she pulled her hands back apologetically. “Sorry, it was a nightmare, thanks for waking me.”

Isan's eyes were soft for a moment as a dry grin cracked his lips. He rubbed his afflicted arm before replying. “Glanni's in labor. I believe that you wanted to be there when it happened?”

~

“I think something's wrong, I think I'm dying.” Glanni gasped into Íþró’s neck with a sharp groan. The elf shot the nurse a worried look as he kept his arms securely supporting his crouching husband.

The nurse rolled her eyes. “He's doing fine, he's just still dilating, it will be hours yet before he's actually ready to deliver. You're both doing the best you can in the meantime. I would tell you to relax but I know that won't do any good.”

“They want me to die!” Glanni sobbed. “Íþró! Why are you letting this happen, how could you do this to me?! I hate you!” He whined, digging his fingers into the elf’s strong arms.

“Take it easy, love, it's just like we practiced.” Íþró reassured him gently.

“Fuck off, this is worse than the alley!” He spat.

“Don't say that...”

“I would cast something to make you feel this but I can't concentrate on the spell.” He insisted.

“Breathe with me, darling.”

“Fuck your breathing bullshit!”

“Would you like to stand up and walk around a bit?”

“No I want the drugs!”

“Glanni, I know you're in a lot of pain right now-” He continued calmly, helping Glanni stand as the contraction began to subside.

“Fuck you!”

“But we both agreed that it would be best for the baby to do this as naturally as possible.”

“I changed my mind!”

“You told me not to let you talk yourself out of it in the moment.”

“I didn't think it would hurt so much!” He grumbled, curling up on the bed.

“Do you want some water?” Íþró asked, petting his husband's sweat slicked hair and rubbing his aching muscles. He paid little notice to the deep welts left by Glanni's sharp nails.

“Do you guys mind if I just go to bed, I mean, I know I said I’d stay and be here, but it’s late, and I’m tired and the nurse says it’s going to be hours yet so...” Rikki asked from where she had already begun creeping to the door. Íþró nodded hesitantly but Glanni’s back was to her.

“Do what you want, I don’t care.” The criminal grumbled, his low voice muffled. Rikki hesitated, uncertain whether or not the words were sincere, but as she swayed on her feet, she decided it was better to leave.

“I’ll see you guys later, take care of each other.”

“We will.” Íþró promised, his weariness tempered with pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to be a beta reader or collaborate with me, pm me over Tumblr or Skype or Twitter or basically any platform under the username Kiyarasabel.
> 
> As always, please leave kudos, comments, bookmarks to feed my ego so I can keep writing.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello goodbye, it's finally done. There are two more parts in the future and perhaps a couple to put in the past of this series.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a good ride, right?

“Our own little Rikki, since you will be leaving us soon.” Glanni purred over his bundle when the teen reappeared the next afternoon. Everyone's face had shone with tears at some point, even Isan who stood in a suspiciously darkened corner and attempted valiantly to pretend that he was rubbing something other than emotion from his face.

“I'm honored, really, but didn't you want to name her Gabriella?” Rikki asked nervously, avoiding his gaze by studying the sleeping infant.

“That's what middle names are for. Besides it's a little too old-fashioned for kids these days.” Glanni muttered dismissively.

Rikki noticed her teacher in the corner. “Dawn’s going to find out on her own shortly after she starts at the academy. You and her mother should discuss actually telling her. She'll put two and two together on her own, gills aren't very common in Avalon.”

“You've got to stop using your knowledge of the future as if we're all privy to the information.” Isan growled, glaring suspiciously at the others in the room.

“You're so snippy all the time,” Rikki rolled her eyes. “I swear you're not as bad in my time.”

“Yes, well assumedly I had a few decades of being worn down by the time you became my problem.” He looked at his nails. “I suppose that it means that now is time to prepare for your return home.”

“Oh. I guess it is, isn't it.”

~

Rikki stared at the room that had been hers for the last several months and realized just how attached she had become, despite that she missed her home. She sorted through all of the clothes and the luggage set. The first round fairly simple, picking first the easiest carry-on and then setting aside any of the clothes that she had outgrown, worn out or just simply didn't go with anything else. Some things were just no longer to her taste. While the first pile was sizeable it was dwarfed by the remaining pile of clothes nearly two thirds larger.

Groaning she flopped between them and listlessly dug through the pile idly, tossing the outfits she couldn't do without into her final suitcase. It took another two rounds going between the maybes and the certainties before she could finally pack the suitcase shut. She took the rest of the day tidying the room and sorting through the other essentials, make-up, jewelry, accessories.

Eventually she flopped back down on her bed between the piles of clothing she would be leaving behind and sighed, thinking over the past months and reviewing the knowledge that she'd gained from Isan to get home. She would leave the next day she decided, knowing that she couldn't let herself procrastinate, knowing how badly she missed her home and feeling her magical signature fading into the patterns of this world.

She slept restlessly, but was blessedly free of nightmares.

~

“We've been discussing your return home for some time and decided that you could use some additional souvenirs.” Isan greeted her the next morning as she pulled her suitcase behind her. She was a little surprised to see that Glanni was in the library, until she noticed that he was in a wheelchair, the tiny infant sleeping in his arms. Íþró was visibly exhausted but alert to Glanni’s every whim.

A velvet bag rested on the center of the table along with a neatly organized folder.

“We tried to compile as much information about what happened here as possible so that your mages at home might be able to sort out events in your world. The three of us have also contributed our own memories of our experiences to share with our counterparts.” Isan explained, withdrawing a crystal orb from the velvet sack. “They need only touch it with their magic and should automatically receive the proper information.”

Feet pounded down the hallway and Rikki nearly lost her balance as Visquard flung himself at her with a hug. “I was afraid that you had already left when I heard you were leaving today.” He gasped into her ear as he held her tight. She giggled.

“I wouldn't have left without saying goodbye, you dork.”

“I’m glad. Everything else aside, I consider you one of my greatest friends, not to mention that I still owe you a life debt.” He tried unsuccessfully to compose himself and Rikki admired the effort, even as he tried to surreptitiously wipe tears from his face.

She smiled at him softly. “You never know, we might see each other again some day. Stranger things have happened.”

He returned the expression even if it didn't quite reach his eyes. “I'll never forget you.”

“I know.”

“My mother and Rake also have gifts for you.” He told her gently as he drew something from his satchel. “I heard that your knife was damaged beyond reair by the warlock’s death curse, so I had Rake help me find you a new one, he said fixed blades are better for fighting anyway.”

It was a smooth s curve, the blade shining almost as bright as the deceptively simple bone handle, skillfully carved to enhance the natural grain and whorls of the material.

The Lady’s entrance was surprisingly subtle, flanked by Rake, the two entered with impeccable timing as Rikki found herself speechless in response to the unexpected generosity.

“You didn’t think we’d let you leave without a proper send off did you?” The Lady’s eyes were soft, glittering with both amusement and fondness.

“Well, I know that the magic we’re working with is something that we want to keep quiet about.” Rikki explained abashedly, hesitant to make eye contact.

“I had hoped to do this with a touch more ceremony, both to celebrate the new Rikki’s arrival as well as your own departure, but I understand that you would prefer to leave without fanfare.” The Lady offered warmly. Rake presented a box for her, his expression mischievously daring Rikki to peek inside. “I thought it would do you well to wear an appropriate symbol of your station.”

The teen was utterly at a loss for words as the box was opened to reveal a delicate interlacing of bright metal and a rainbow of gemstones. She couldn’t bear to touch it, covering her mouth with her hands. “I-I can’t… it’s too nice.” She gasped, feeling pain as her throat tightened and tears welled in her eyes. “I mean… That’s not even how my Court works… I’m not even going to be a Lady one day.”

The Lady smiled. “You’re more important than you know Rikki Robinson. I hope you learn to bear and respect that responsibility with grace. I will not pressure you to try it on, although I would dearly love to see it highlighting your face, but I insist that you take it with you. I am certain you will find occasion to claim it as your own.”

“I’m sorry.” Rikki stammered, feeling tears falling from her face as she took the box with shaking hands, Rake assisting her in stowing the treasure in a shoulder bag that was being used to carry her new store of gifts. She laughed as the pickpocket slipped a case into her pocket.

“I heard you didn’t have your own set and that is a shame for a girl with such clever fingers as yourself.” He grinned and she didn’t need to pat it to know that it was a set of lock picks.

Another round of hugs ensued as she embraced each of these people who had taken her in as their own family, and she was not the only one crying when Isan finally pulled away to put a bracing hand on her shoulder.

“Are you ready?” He asked, voice serious and eyes uncharacteristically concerned.

She nodded resolutely. “I’ve done this once, it’s not so bad.”

Each mage involved knew their part, ready to assist if anything went wrong as the air began to warp and ripple like a heat mirage.

The first time she had been too excited, too hasty to take in the experience, a literal case of blink and you'll miss it. Aside from slight disorientation coming into the new reality, it hadn't been particularly memorable.

This time she wished she hadn't kept her eyes open. Disoriented didn't begin to cover the queasy way that everything twisted, in around, through her. It wasn't enough to suffer these distortions on a physical level. While her first journey had merely left a sensation of fighting against a current’s pull, she could feel what she could only assume was the essence she had absorbed from the new world being pulled away from her Natal essence.

It took an eternity rather than an eyeblink, she traveled both as if through molasses and at the speed of light. Her form warped, drawn long and then crushed like taffy. She had never been more aware and yet she felt as if she were losing consciousness.

~

Rikki’s head cleared as she sat back on her legs, lifting her shaking hands to her face. She looked up to see Íþróttaálfurinn flat on his back with at least three swords to his throat and an indeterminable amount of magical auras.

“What did you do?” Growled someone ominously.

“What the shit you guys, how long have I been gone, like an hour?!” Rikki blurted, alarmed.

“Ten minutes.” Íþróttaálfurinn choked. “I told you that she could handle it.”

“What did you do?” Repeated more than one voice as Alex leapt to her side and embraced her, his tears falling freely on her cheek.

“Dad please, you're embarrassing me.” She groaned. “Oh and I think it will be better if you take this for an explanation.” She lobbed the crystal towards the conflict and three separate streams of magic connected to keep it from the ground. Isan, Robbie and Glanni hissed as the vision took hold. “Pabbi, let me go, I have one last thing to do.” Reluctantly Alex released her but not before patting her head and running fingers through her short hair. “Uncle Íþróttaálfurinn, I figured it out.” She reached out to him and clasped his hand in hers.

The air rippled as she uttered the incantation to release the curse, a horrifying shriek split the air and Íþróttaálfurinn began sobbing.

“You broke him again.” Isan stated as he and the others came back into the present. 

Rikki smiled, dizzy and unsteady on her feet after two advanced castings. “Yeah, but he's himself again now.”  
Glanni cursed, the first to notice the deep wounds lacerating Íþróttaálfurinn's soul, quickly patching together what he could with his own energy.

“We can close the wounds but they will take years to heal.” Isan muttered to his Lord, dropping to his knees beside the prostrate warrior. He grabbed one of the fallen man’s hands in his own. “Íþróttaálfurinn, Í owe you the most grave of apologies, I should have seen the taint for what it was, should have recognized that you were indeed not yourself, I should have seen who you really are. It is unforgivable that I have made this mistake in the first place, much more so that I have remained ignorant for so long.”

The prone warrior could only choke on his sobs, trying to curl in on himself. Warily, Robbie stood at his daughter’s side and reached for his husband's hand. “I think now would be a good time to go home.”

Rikki and Alex nodded, unsurprised when they were engulfed by a puff of purple smoke and settled into their living room, two tense teen boys relaxing at the sight of their family unharmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so glad to finally get back to the Domestic Sportarobbie content I crave.
> 
> If you want to be a beta reader or collaborate with me, pm me over Tumblr or Skype or Twitter or basically any platform under the username Kiyarasabel.
> 
> As always, please leave kudos, comments, bookmarks and subscriptions, to feed my ego so I can keep writing.


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